


Coming Home

by Pandora_de_Romanus



Series: In Mac's Bar Trilogy [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dean Needs A Hug, Harry Potter References, Harry Potter Series Compliant, M/M, Not Compliant with the Epilogue or Cursed Child, OCs to get the story going, Protective Castiel, Protective Sam Winchester, Protective Teddy Lupin, Supernatural Compliant up until Season 05 Chapter 10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-08-27 05:19:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 34
Words: 32,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8388802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandora_de_Romanus/pseuds/Pandora_de_Romanus
Summary: Sequel to In Mac's Bar Everything Goes. The Ministry found some of Ginny's loose ends. But it is Harry who will have to tie them up. Dean is just trying to keep it all together.





	1. We are a Team

**Author's Note:**

> This initially was an Epilogue that grew out of proportions...

We are a team… Dean mocked his own words from a few days back.

They were in the middle of a deserted alley and Harry was looking for something among the trash bins on the back of an old building no one came to anymore.

Dean was getting nervous in anticipation as he run over in his head all of Harry's instructions. Make sure he is touching the portthingy, whatever it was; hold your belongings close to your body; try not to fall on top of anyone when landing; try not to puke on anybody after landing… It sounded as bad as a plane, but it was even worse because it was magical… Even in his thoughts the word sounded like a something disgusting. Dean has never liked magic, because it always ended bad for innocent people. Or, in his first hand experience, for him. As he grew 'intimate' with Harry's World, it only got worse. Nothing against Harry's world, but Dean didn't feel bad in the slightest, not liking it since they let Ginerva Weasley get away with being a bitch and hurting Harry. It also took Harry's parents, and killed him 3 times. The bastards could go to hell for all that he cared.

Harry took out his phone from his pocket and checked the time.

"That's good. It looks like this is not a popular schedule for traveling" He told Dean, taking from the nearest trash bin an old toilet seat and offering it to him. "Here, touch it."

"It's a toilet seat." Dean told Harry, deadpan.

"I know. But Wizards are just weird and you'll have to get used to it. The official explanation is that portkeys have to be hidden from muggles. And no muggle in his right mind would hold a toilet seat he found in a rubbish bin."

"Dead right, it's gross. Tell me again why we are doing this wizard style…" Dean said anxious about this trip. Apparition hadn't been pleasant; he didn't want to think about how portkeys really worked… He held the toilet seat as firmly as he could, anyway.

"Well, Dean, you hate flying. This is the fastest way. This and apparition. And you already made clear how much you hate apparating. There is also the fact that the FBI is still hunting you and it would be quite easy for them to spot you if you tried to board a plane, with a bag full weapons no less." Harry explained pointing to Dean's duffle, sarcasm dripping from his words. Dean was being difficult, but Harry understood that it was just his way of dealing with pressure. Harry just hoped it wasn't going to be this way the whole trip. He wouldn't be able to take it for that long. Specially if he had to deal with what he thought he had to deal with. He just hoped… He didn't even know what to hope for anymore… For the moment, he just hoped the trip was fine.

Harry was so lost in his thoughts that he forgot to make the counting and poor Dean was dragged from his standing spot without further notice. He felt as if a hook pulled him around his navel and held the toilet seat for dear life. He felt the wind and he saw Harry next to him but everything seemed blurry. Suddenly it stopped and he fell on his ass.

"Good lord, this is worse than LSD." Dean commented coming back to himself only to find Harry sprawled on top of him. He smiled suggestively. "Not that I'm complaining. Being with you is always a ride." He said. Harry blushed slightly. It was truly a mystery. They had slept together every night for a year already but Dean could still make him blush. He got up from over the hunter, helped him up and led him outside the alley.

The streets were old and small. So different from any highway. Totally different from any street on the US. They were too old to look like anything on America. The buildings had their doors directly on the sidewalk and everything seemed kind of old and kind of crowded. As if they had put too many buildings on a too small street. It was cold, half of November cold and it was rainy.

"Welcome to London." Harry said.

 

To be Continued…


	2. God Save the Queen

It all had started with a phone call.

The melody of "God Save the Queen" by Sex Pistols filled the bedroom. There was some shuffling and then Harry's voice.

"Hullo." He said and Dean's morning wood responded to the accent. He was still in bed and his mind was terribly fuzzy. The night before he had just got home from a week-long hunt after a 10 hour drive. He knew he shouldn't do that kind of stuff, but the time away took its toll. All that "There is no place like home" crap was totally true. And all he managed to do when he arrived was crash in their bed and hold Harry as if there was no tomorrow. Even if sleeping with Harry was great, when he heard his voice, his accent, Dean's dick just let him know he wasn't averse to the idea of some alone time with his wizard…

Harry's words, though, weren't right… Some shock, some sadness, Dean couldn't catch the words, but he knew there was something wrong by the tones he was using. He made an effort to concentrate on the conversation, keeping his eyes shut.

"Do you think… Is that even possible?" Harry paused and let out a deep breath. "Merlin." He sounded shocked and tired and disturbed by whatever was said to him. "I'll just talk to Dean, and as soon as I can, I'll be there. I just hope it isn't true…" He said and this sounded way too serious for Dean's tastes.

"Ok… I'll call as soon as I arrive."

There was the sound of something small falling on the pile of clothes on the armchair by their bed, probably Harry's phone.

Dean opened his eyes to see Harry looking at him with a sad expression.

"Where do you think you are going?" Dean asked, very much awake and in that defensive tone Dean get every time he thinks someone is lying to him. The idea of Harry agreeing on just ditching him that easy just after he came back had him quite pissed off.

"Dean… Something happened."

"Obviously, since you are planning on running off like that." Dean's voice rose as he got to his feet ready to show Harry how much he 'enjoyed' that plan.

"It is not like that!" Harry answered getting angry and loud as well. He hated when Dean started accusing him without listening to him first. It just made his blood boil!

"Then what is it?!" Dean shouted back.

"They've found some information on Ginerva… Some of the things she did just after our divorce… Some things that may very well have to do with me. And I have to go there. In person" Harry answered, trying very hard to keep controlled.

"England?" Dean asked, his nostrils flared a bit. Harry nodded.

"How long?" Dean asked still mad but in a lower tone.

"As long as it takes." The wizard answered as truthfully as he could. Dean's face fell at that moment, it felt like Harry was going one way or another and written on his face were all his abandonment issues, his brother leaving him, his mother and father dying, Castiel leaving for heaven… It broke Harry's heart. Dean was looking at Harry as if he was fucking leaving him. As if he was being that much of a bastard and Harry hated that he felt like that much of a bastard.

"Dean… It's importat." He said tiredly, his anger gone, almost begging for Dean to understand.

"Then explain it to me." Said the hunter and Harry's eyes grew in fear.

"I-it… M-may as well be nothing at all." Harry stuttered weakly and sat on the bed not thrusting his legs to hold him. Keeping a cold façade in front of Hermione on the phone was one thing, holding himself together in front of Dean was another entirely. He wasn't ready to talk about that, he couldn't even look Dean in the eye while thinking about it. Was it true? Could it be true? Was she capable of that? He asked himself.

Dean looked at Harry and knew that this something important was also disturbing. Harry could take a lot but he didn't seem to be holding up well, whatever this something was. That was all it took for his anger and pain to dissolve into his love for Harry. Harry was priority, the rest could wait, he, himself, could wait. He crossed the room and sat by Harry's side making a decision.

"Ok… " He released a deep breath he didn't know he was holding and touched Harry's hair and face. "Harry" He called to no avail, Harry's eyes were still on the floor. "Baby, look at me." He said and at that Harry's eyes lifted to his. His fingers soft on the wizard's face which still had stubble, he hadn't had the time to shave before the phone rang.

"I want you to pack your things. We are going to take care of this, whatever it is. You and I. We are a team."

 

To be Continued…


	3. The Leaky Cauldron

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWO Chapters in a day!!! Why am I being nice? Because Chapters are small in this story!!!!

The Leaky Cauldron.

It sounded like a bad joke. At first Dean didn't see it, but then Harry picked up a pair of glasses from his pocket and offered it to him. According to Harry this way he would be able to see trough any glomours and even though it spoiled his charming looks, that's how he was able to see the place.

It was small, dirty and had terrible lighting. Seemed worse then the roadside bars and dinners Dean used to haunt when hunting. As they walked in, Dean scanned the place and put on his best badass face. The bar was full of weirdoes and as everything wizard related it looked old.

Harry dig his hockey hat deeper in his head and put up the lapels of his coat. He felt exposed, but he had spent most of his time in Dean's glasses. There had been no time to prepare a suitable disguise. He guided Dean to the back room and through the archway to Diagon Alley. He lifted an eyebrow defying Dean to say something about the door and the place, but the other men seemed to be handing it nicely. Better than he expected, at least.

Dean, on the other hand, felt his hands itch for his gun, only so he wouldn't be defenseless. He felt exposed and surrounded by enemies. As if the kid beside him would soon turn on him and curse him. As if the stores around him were all traps. He felt tense. And Harry was too deep in memories to notice such subtle detail.

They walked to the biggest building around. It was all white stone, beautifully decorated, it seemed like some kind of old museum. It said Gringotts on top of the big bronze doors and there was a short little man the size of a child standing by the door.

"Where are we?" Dean asked.

"Gringotts. Wizard bank ran by goblins. Best wizard security you can buy." Harry answered. Dean stared hard at the short little thing with his long, unending hands. "They talk about big hands…" Dean laughed at his own joke and Harry couldn't help but stifle a laugh. "Stop that. Goblins are quite a serious guys."

The doorman inclined his head as he opened the bronze doors. Harry answered politely with a nod of his own and Dean followed his lead. There, after the first ones, was a second pair of doors, this time in silver, with an inscription that said something to scare thieves. There were two more goblins there that inclined their heads in respect to which Harry and Dean repeated their nod. Banks always reminded him of Ron, the guy who thought shape shifters were droids. Ron was a good guy and it pained Dean that the guy died like that.

The room they got to, was full of goblins sitting in high seats counting golden coins and jewels the size of lemons. Harry went to one of the desks and asked for his account manager. The goblin took him to a special office, which held, surprise!, another Goblin.

"Mr. Potter, I'm so glad to have you back." Said the Goblin raising from his seat behind the big and sturdy mahogany desk to shake Harry's hand.

"It's been a long time, Griphook." Harry answered shaking the weird goblin hand.

"That it is. And this is?" Griphook asked politly.

"Dean Winchester." Harry said, but did not elaborate.

"Oh, so good to meet you, Mr. Winchester." The Goblin gave Harry a meaningful look and extended his hand to Dean. The hunter took a deep breath to hold his feeling of weirdness in touching the goblin's hand and shook it.

"Hey, how you doing?" He asked using his manners.

"Have a seat." Griphook offered. "I hope your credit cards are servicing you well." The last part clearly directed to Harry.

"They are perfect, thank you. Thank you also for the wonderful job you did during my divorce and my new will." Harry answered.

"You have a will?" Dean wasn't pleased to hear that. Griphook noticed immediately and tried to help his employer.

"It's mere formality. It is a rule from the bank for anyone with such vast patrimony to have a written will. You wouldn't, for example, want to see Mr. Potter's gold go to his ex-wife in case of his demise, correct?" The banker challenged.

"We couldn't have that." Dean said with a bad taste in his mouth. Just thinking about Harry's "demise" left him in a terrible mood, specially when it had been just about a year since last time Harry died.

"Certainly not. And about the divorce, Mr. Potter, on our doors we carved that all thieves must think twice before taking that which was not earned. She wanted to rob you, Mr. Potter. We only prevented it. It's our job." The banker continued.

"Right. It was a good job anyway. I came for a withdraw, I'll be spending the next few weeks on wizard business, and magical stores won't accept my credit cards." Harry said matter-of-factly.

Griphook rang a bell that was on top of his table and a younger, more inexperienced looking goblin entered the room.

"Ug, our intern, will take you to your vault, Mr. Potter, I'll wait here with Mr. Winchester." The older goblin said and Harry left with the young Ug, a little unsure of leaving Dean alone with the goblin. He didn't know if he was afraid for Dean or Griphook.

"So, Mr. Winchester, how is America doing? I heard from Mr. Potter that you are muggle."

"Harry talked about me with you?" Dean raised a very suspicious eyebrow.

"He had to, after all, you are one of his heirs." Griphook commented with a malicious smile. "I just wish Walburga Black was still alive to see this…"

"Who?" Dean asked, but he didn't even know if he really wanted to know. He was still a bit shocked about Harry thinking of living him money.

"Walburga Black, late Lady Black. I don't know if you understand this Mr. Winchester, but Mr. Potter is a very rich, very powerful man in this side of the world. He is The-Boy-Who-Lived, The-Man-Who-Defeated-Voldemort, and also the one to defeat Ginerva Potter. And if you don't know, that means he saved this world about 3 times already. If he weren't so discrete in his clothes, he would be surrounded by reporters and admirers. Not only that, he was also born into the Potter family, which is an old pure-bloodline. But the bloodline as most pure-bloodlines was thinning in numbers and after the Wars against Voldemort, Mr. Potter was left as the last living Lord Potter, though he hates to be called by his title, or any other of his many titles. When his parents died, his guard passed on to his godfather, Lord Sirius Black, who also was the last Lord Black of his bloodline, who also met his end during the Wars, which makes Lord Potter also last breathing Lord Black. Both families are unbelievably rich but Mr. Potter is very modest in his way of life and his last will is to pass it all on to you, Mr. Theodore Lupin and the Weasleys. The late Walburga Black was a great supporter of Voldemort's ideal, that muggles and half-bloods are inferior to pure blooded wizards. It would be a humorous sight to see her reaction to knowing that the fortune of her family is going to a muggle, a half-blood and 'peasant' pure blood family. It would be priceless." Said the goblin, grinning at the mental image.

"You sure like to talk…" Dean said, the thought that Harry was so out of his league bothered him to no end and the fact that he was on his will only bothered him more… Made him feel as some kind of gold-digging bastard that only wanted Harry for his money, even though he knew it wasn't the truth, he knew what this goblin was thinking. He was thinking he was another Ginerva.

"I'm just trying to make you understand, for the title of Lord Potter is going to you, as Lord Black's title in going to Mr. Lupin. He was already presented, but you still have to be presented to the Wizarding Society, a technicality for your lordship to be recognized. Our intern just pointed it out last week. And since Mr. Potter was coming to England on business I decided to tell him personally, but now that the most interested person is here, why not inform you directly? The Ministry of Magic is throwing a Ball in Mr. Potter's honor since he destroyed the threat of Ginerva, which would be the perfect opportunity for your presentation." Griphook continued his unending talking.

"What if I don't?" Dean asked.

"You lose the title and the Ministry can dispute your right to the money." Griphook said, and looked at Dean as if looking at him for the first time. "You don't seem interested in any of this." The goblin said pondering it out loud.

"I have no use for Harry's money, if he is dead, Mr. Goblin." Dean said in a manner that surprised Griphook. The muggle seemed to be offended with the mere mention of Harry Potter's possible death. He tried to smooth things up with his 'future client'.

"I understand it is not your interest, and certainly not mine, to see Mr. Potter's demise, but you have to agree he is not a careful person. His life is at constant risk. He is a target."

Dean ignored the goblin for a minute as he grabbed the golden name plate on the mahogany table.

"Listen here, Mr. Griphook." He said reading the name from the plate and putting it back in place.

"If Harry goes to hell, I'll be right after him."

 

To be Continued…


	4. Madam Malkin

"I still can't believe you talked me into this…" Dean told Harry, not at all happy about his situation. Madam Malkin; a short, blond, overweight witch; Diagon Alleys's best tailor, was using a very naughty hand to make Dean's fitting for his new robes. Dean just couldn't believe it… He was wearing dresses (robes) for the rest of their trip! It was un-fucking-believable.

"Hey, lady! Hands off!"

He told her, irritated with the woman. If she was a nice looking girl or Harry he wouldn't mind, but she was a dirty fat lady who was trying to get lucky with him.

Harry laughed a bit. Only Dean could make him laugh after being coerced the way he had been.

"Don't laugh yet, dear. You are next." She told Harry in naughty smile, she seemed very excited. Harry sighed. He knew he had to put up with the woman for a bit, especially if he wanted decent clothes for the Ministry's Ball. He really hated bureaucrats… After going to his vault, Griphook delivered the invitation to the Ministry's Ball in his honor. He had raised an eyebrow to his long time friend. Griphook knew him well enough to know he hated this kind of society rubbish. The goblin then asked him to read the invitation. When he did so, he discovered a handwritten note signed by the New Headauror, Mr. Hillside, who politely informed Harry that he was only welcome to read his ex-wife's file after he attended the ball. So he decided to take Dean to Madam Malkins so they both could have something to wear that night.

"Madam, we'll need a set of dress robes each." Harry said. "And I'll need crest embroidery on mine."

"Oh!" The woman said. "A family crest? Which one should I order?"

"Potter and Black." He said half heartedly.

The woman let her measuring tape and the pin box she was holding fall clattering to the ground as she turned, put her glasses upper her nose and let out a surprised:

"Sweet Merlin! It's Harry Potter!"

That was when it all went to hell in Dean's opinion. As she said that, the guy that was making fittings beside him looked at Harry with big surprised eyes that looked bigger than his face, the younger woman making the fittings, looked at Harry like he was a superstar, she let her hair loose from its ponytail and blinked at him seductively. Dean glared at her, but she didn't notice, her eyes were totally taken with Harry. Harry, on his turn ignored all that, and climbed the small stool to take his measures. Madam Malkin's hand trembled terribly as she did her job.

It didn't take two minutes to have three more people on the doorway to the backroom, then it started gathering more and more people. When they were finished, they knew it would be a battle to get out. Dean took a deep breath and started to make way among the crowd.

"Walking through! Out! Out the way!" He screamed his way through and Harry followed, holding him by the jacket.

The whispers of "It's Harry Potter.", "It's really him!" flowed through the crowd that only grew and they all seemed like they wanted a piece of Harry. Dean had started to shoulder some people out of the way to keep forward, he seriously thought about shooting up to see if the guys dispersed somewhat. There were flashes of old cameras then, cameras that still used magnesium as flashlights right at his face and Dean reached for Harry's hand as if the press vultures would take him away. Just as Ginerva did.

"Mr. Potter, what brings you back?" Asked a tall, thin man with a beard and a notepad.

"Will you be at the Ministry Ball?" Another shorter guy.

"Who is your friend, Harry Dear?" Asked a woman in green who had a crazy feather over her head scribbling madly on a notepad.

Harry gripped Dean's hand…

"No comment."

…and Disapparated from there.

 

To be Continued…


	5. Number 12, Grimmuald Place

They apparated just across number 12, Grimmuald Place. According to Griphook, Harry's most livable house in London. To think Harry had townhouses, mansions and country states, it was so much money that Dean couldn't quite grasp the reality of it. Even if he had always wanted to win the lottery, that amount of old aristocratic money made him shiver in discomfort… But not as much as the scene outside Madam Malkin's. He was still shocked at the whole situation. The look on those people as they looked at Harry. It was adoration. It was a distorted love as if they knew him when they didn't. Some had that look you only found in some churches when people really believed. They looked at Harry as if he was Jesus fucking Christ. He was so relieved Harry had just disapparated. He hated the thing but it saved them from "mob-managing". Dean still remembered last time he had so many people after him… It was in 2014, and he was being chased by a mob of Croats…

They stood on the street and Dean noticed that the number in the houses went from 11 to 13 and frowned. He took out the magical glasses Harry had made him and tried to wipe them clean. Without word, Harry gave him a slip of paper, which read: "Harry Potter's house in London is in Number 12, Grimmuald Place." On a scrawled handwriting that looked like that of a child, Teddy's handwriting. He looked again and the whole building seemed to sprout in between the two others. Dean was beginning to get used to all the weird. He didn't even felt like jumping that time. He looked at Harry and he looked at the building with a sad expression. Dean wanted to hold his hand, but they were in public and he had let go of Harry's hand as soon as they had finished apparating. Harry led their way to the house and entered.

The whole place looked as old as can be, but looked cleaner than a few motels he had been to. Harry looked at the Hall as if expecting something. Dean tensed and reached for his gun as a reaction, but nothing happened.

He looked worried at Harry who just took out his coat and hockey hat and hanged it on the hanger by the door. Dean did the same.

"You ok?" He asked.

"Too much bad memories." He answered. "Could you take the luggage to the Master bedroom?" Harry asked as he reached inside his pockets and pulled out their luggage which he had shrunk.

"You'll be ok?" Dean asked taking the minibags in a hand.

"I just need a moment." Harry answered and Dean nodded going up the stairs.

Harry walked back to the Hall. There was no Dumbledore Ghost, no Portrait of Mrs. Black on the wall. The company he had hired for the cleaning, a Goblin company that employed free house-elves for hard cleaning, had made a very good job. As he walked he could barely recognize the house. Which was good. He wouldn't be able to stay there being reminded of Sirius presence, of Dumbledore, of Snape, Tonks, Lupin, Fred, Moody… Hedwig… His eyes were full of tears but he wasn't crying no more. Dean was there and they would be spending Christmas with Teddy. His heart warmed at the thought. It was time to build good memories in that house.

He walked to the room where once the Black Family Tree had graced the walls. He had kept that. It was Teddy's family, after all, the worst of it, but still… Family.

As he entered, he noticed the room had already added his name to the bottom of the Family Tree. It said: "Lord Harry Potter, also Lord Black" and he knew it meant the house accepted him as owner.

He closed his eyes and reached to the magical tapestry. As soon as the tips of his fingers touched it the burned black lines of Sirius name regained their original color, stretching and reweaving themselves once more into his late godfather's name. Andromeda's name also reappeared. Ted Tonk's name was written for the first time, Nimphadora and Remus' too. At the bottom, close to Harry's name appeared Teddy's, Theodore Remus Lupin, and Harry felt really proud to see that Teddy would know more about his parents than he ever did.

He left the room and went to the wall by the stairs where the heads of the most loyal of all Black's house elves were honored. He looked at the heads on the wall and sighed. Kreature's glassy eyes were there, eternally frozen, looking ahead. The whole thing gave him the creeps, but that had been Kreature's biggest wish when he was alive and Harry couldn't deny him that. Hence the wall of honor being maintained. He missed him a lot, as he missed Dobby. They were always sincere in their liking of him. As much as the Goblins. As much as Dean.

He felt a pair of arms around him.

"Man, they are fugly. It's worse than that motel with the 70's decorations we stayed in east of Sioux Falls." Dean commented looking at the wall.

Harry chuckled, sadly, and turned to kiss Dean.

"This is a wall of honor, and even if they aren't easy on the eyes they shall be honored." He said with finality but not in an unkind manner.

"Sorry, folks. Well, done… Whatever you did." Dean said to the dead things.

"They are honored for being good and loyal servants when they were alive." Harry said as Dean hugged him some more taking him away from the heads on the wall and guiding him up the stairs.

"Come on, then, Lord Potter, let's service you. I may even make it to the wall of fame." He said in Harry's ear, mocking the title, his voice already husky with anticipation. "Your lordship, has a king bed upstairs and since there is going to be a party, we could start celebrating between us, huh?"

 

To be Continued…


	6. Hermione

Harry felt warm and comfortable. The fire still cracked on the hearth and Dean was solid under his head. The bed was soft and the linens were high-quality Egyptian. Dean had called the bed on the master bedroom a 'kick ass bed'. Harry could only agree, magical beds with Egyptian linens were brilliant.

"Harry James Potter!" A shrill female voice brought him to a rude awakening, for a moment he thought it was Mrs. Black's Portrait, but no... It was Hermione.

"Fuck..." Dean whispered beside him moving under Harry, trying to scape the offending noise. Harry took pity on him, and decided to see what their visitor wanted. He got up, reached for his trousers, a t-shirt and pullover. He padded barefoot to the hall and was reminded of shoes. He put on a pair of slippers and went downstairs.

"Hullo, 'Mione." He said through a yawn.

"Hello? Hello?! Harry! You said you'd call, first thing, when you got here!" She said, her cheeks red in exasperation.

"Oh… Forgot about that." He said still sleepy.

"You don't want to know how I know you are here?" She asked, indignant.

"How?" He asked, indulging her.

Hermione threw the Daily Prophet at the coffee table just in front of Harry and he could see the pictures of their trip to Diagon Ally that morning. That was enough to have him fully awake.

"Great." He said ironically. That was exactly why he hated coming to England.

"What's great?" Dean asked, looking more awake than Harry had at first.

Harry lifted the newspaper to the hunter.

"We are here for eight hours and we already made front page." Harry answered.

"Let me see this." Dean said and took a long look at the paper and frowned. "Is my nose really that big?" He asked Harry trying to measure his nose with his hand and that had Harry laughing himself silly. He REALLY did love Dean.

"Harry, this is NOT funny." Hermione said, sounding tired.

"I know, 'Mione, sorry." Harry said trying to muffle his laugh.

"Don't get your panties in a twist." Dean said still joking. "You really should think about calling yourself Samantha… You are getting just like Sam."

"Winchester, please, stop joking around for one moment. We have to group and prepare! If what my informant heard is true… It is no joking matter." Hermione seemed dead serious and that brought Dean back.

"Are you letting me into the club? You know, so I can freak out with you guys?" He asked, looking especially to Harry.

Harry's eyes went to the floor. Hermione's eyes went to Harry, burning holes on his skull. He blushed in shame.

"Have you not told him yet?" She asked, surprised. She thought that was the whole point in having Winchester there, he should be there for emotional support.

"Hermione, it may as well be nothing." He answered, trying for a diversion.

"And if it is? Then sounds a better time for you to tell him than now?" She asked, sarcastic.

"I just want to make sure." Harry answered quickly and annoyed he did not want to fight Dean over this AGAIN.

"Stop talking about me as if I'm not here. What the fucking hell is your problem? Why are we here?" Dean asked growing angry by the second.

That brought a heavy silence to the room. It seemed as if nothing could move for what could have been a minute or an hour. Hermione was the first to break the silent spell. She gathered her bag and let out a deep breath.

"Winchester, can you leave us for a moment so that I can talk to Harry?" That was all it took to boil Dean's blood and make all that was left of his patience evaporate for the moment.

"Why not?" Dean said, sarcasm and anger flowing with each word. His hard glare pinned Harry like it was a sword. "I'll just leave you." The double meaning didn't stay hidden to Harry as he heard Dean angrily head for the door and put on his winter coat. Harry was desperate as he ran for the hall after Dean.

"Where are you going?" Harry shouted.

"Out!" Dean answered and slammed the door shut.

Hermione entered the hall and looked apologetically to his friend. She had totally forgotten about Winchester's volatile temper, and the moment she asked Dean to leave she had known that was the wrong thing to say at the wrong time.

"Well, thanks a lot, Hermione." Harry said pointing at the door, ironically.

"Harry, I'm so sorry." The witch said, worried for the rift she may have caused between her friend and his boyfriend.

"It's ok." Harry said, he didn't have the heart to stay angry. It was all his fault for not telling Dean, and even with the whole discussion, he still didn't feel like telling. "I… He has been trying so hard, 'Mione… Dean hates to be around unknown supernatural things. And he hadn't complained once today. He even shook Griphook's hand!" Harry argued.

"Why have you not told him, then?" Hermione asked.

"'Mione… I think... I'm afraid." The Savior of the Wizarding World said in a small heartbroken voice.

 

To be Continued…


	7. Cinder-Dean

"Sam… I can't fucking do it, man." Dean said to his brother over the phone. London could be a big city with too many weird people. He could see it in people's faces. The fashion was crazy, and the girls looked too thin for his tastes. And there were girls for every taste. Hindu, African, Latinas, European… There were all kinds of people walking around… Workers, tourists… Last time he had seem this many tourists he had been on Florida's Disneyworld. Finding his way through hadn't been hard, though. He walked a few blocks and found a souvenir shop with all the red double-decker key chains, the miniature royal guards and a few t-shirts that read "Mind the Gap – London". He bought t-shirts for Sammy, Bobby and Jane. A Key-chain for him and a stuffed Royal Guard for little Johnny. After all his problems with Dad, Sam ended up calling his son John Winchester. People could just be weird like that. His heart pained him just thinking what this whole trip was doing to him. Harry was keeping things from him, and, fuck, that had never happened before. If it wasn't enough to put up with all the weirdness, with the fact that Harry was so much higher on the food chain than Dean would ever get to be… He still had to be out of the loop. The situation on the living room with Hermione had reminded him so much of the situation with Ruby and Sam back before the Apocalipse…

"It's 32,25, sir." Had said the smiley hindu girl at the counter of the souvernir shop with a thick British accent. It was sad how that accent only had the power to turn him on in Harry's low voice. He had shaken himself at the thought.

He paid for the souvenirs with the international credit card he and Sam had scammed especially for this trip and on top of everything he casually threw in an international phone card. The only thing he really had wanted to buy all along and that was how he got to the red phone booth waking up his brother at 2 in the morning, saying:

"Sam… I can't fucking do it, man."

"Dean?" Sam answered, his voice sleepy and confused. "What happened?"

"I swear I'm trying not to put pressure on him, I know he has problems, but I can't help if he keeps me out!" Dean told his brother.

"This is about Harry, isn't it?" Sam asked.

"No, Sam, it's about my grandma Gretchen! Of course, this about Harry!" Dean answered.

"Dean, it's late and I'm trying to help."

"I know, I know… It's just… You don't have an idea of what Harry is in this place… People flock around him like he is freaking Madonna. He has like… three Savior of the World titles and more two from nobility. I've been screwing a fucking lord!" Dean told Sam. He had never wanted anything like this. He just wanted a normal life, hunting things and helping Harry at the bar.

"Dean, you are freaking out. Get a grip. Remember he is still just Harry. Mac, from Mac's Bar. The same guy who gave the whole bar a free round when Canada won the Gold on Vancouver on the Winter Games last February. I can't come over there and play peace maker. I can't call him and ask him to tell you what he is hiding. You have to show him that you are there for him. Remember, he hates England exactly because of all that crap about the Boy-Who-Lived." Sam tried to argue Harry's case.

"He must be crawling the walls with the whole Ball thing." Dean commented.

"A Ball?" Sam snickered, he couldn't really avoid it, it was too funny. "What are you, Cinderella? I'll have to tell Johnny about Uncle Dean's fairy tale and how he went to the Ball with Prince Harry." Sam said on a full on laugh.

"You are not helping." Dean stated, but Sam only laughed harder.

When Sam managed to control himself he said.

"Dean, sorry, it's too much. Oh, God." He paused a bit more. "He hates this kind of stuff, why is he going anyway?"

"If he doesn't go he can't get to his bitch ex's file…" Dean answered.

"That's blackmail." Sam said.

"Seems like they are not so different from muggles in that department."

"Look, you have to go to this thing." Sam said, thinking this was Dean's ticket to the secret.

"I am going."

"You are?" He asked, surprised. Dean also hated this kind of thing.

"No way in hell, I would let Harry alone near those vultures."

 

To be Continued…


	8. Back in the Saddle Again...

"You're back." Harry stated as he let Dean in, many hours after he had left.

"I can't board a plane, remember?" Dean said matter-of-factly, as he entered keeping his back to Harry after passing by him. He wanted to hurt him a bit, he was back but he hadn't forgotten what happened. Harry let his eyes fall to the floor.

"Sorry about that." He said in a week voice as he closed the door. This was a private matter, just his and Dean's problem.

"You should be sorry for other things." Dean said.

And that was just another hit to Harry's self-esteem. He didn't quite know what to do. Tell Dean and let the shit hit the fan, keep the secret, go back to the US without knowing… No, he couldn't do that.

"Dean… I can't… Not yet." Harry tried to explain.

"I get that." Dean answered and that surprised Harry. Was it all? Was it going to be that easy? He thought to himself with a bit of guilt. "But…" Dean continued and Harry knew it wouldn't come cheap. "I'm going with you, wherever you are going. To Diagon Ally, to the damned Ball at the Ministry, to the fucking Big Ben, it doesn't matter, I'm going. And I'm gonna read that file sometime, and I'm going to know. Sooner or later. I'm gonna see whatever the hell you are going to see. Because I'm going to be there." He paused for a moment and continued. "It's your call. You can tell me yourself now, later, whenever, or you can let me see or read with my own eyes. I won't 'leave you for a moment' to talk to Hermione. Everything you have to talk to her… I'm gonna be there, and I'm gonna listen to it. We are a team, for good and for worse and I'm not letting you out of my sight."

Harry swallowed dry. His lover was not kidding. Dean Winchester, above all else was a hunter. A hell of a good hunter. That was his nature, his education, his most basic instinct. And what made him that good at it was the fact that he NEVER let go. If there was something killing people, or hurting others, he would chase after this something 'till he got it or it got him. Because that was his nature, that was what his beloved father taught him to do. Any good hunt starts with a mystery and people getting hurt, Harry knew that. Harry had seen Dean looking for hunts. Harry's secret was a mystery to Dean, and it was hurting both of them. When Harry looked at Dean's eyes again that night he didn't see 'Dean on Vacation with Harry in England', he saw 'Dean Winchester, the hunter who ganked the devil, on a hunt'. And that was serious business.

That night the mood wasn't the same as the one they enjoyed during the afternoon. It was tense as well as intense. They laid in the king-sized bed, the biggest king-sized bed Dean had ever slept in, and the playful mood was nowhere to be found. Dean held Harry spooned to himself with possessive arms that said 'there is no way you are escaping me'. Harry for his part didn't feel bothered by the arms nor the possessiveness, his eyes just faced the wall at a long distance from their bed. What made him tense was that there was no way out of it. Dean was going to know.

They laid like that for an hour or so, sleep eluding them as their minds were full of regretted words, said or unsaid.

Dean kissed Harry's neck as a peace offering. His kisses were loving, slow and meticulous as he mapped Harry's skin once more. They stated how much Dean loved the wizard. That it didn't matter the fights, the bitter words, he would always love him. Dean's hold relaxed a bit and trigger trained fingers started playing with Harry's uncovered nipples, Harry slept shirtless, the tease.

His other hand caressed Harry's chest, his abdomen, sliding inside his pajama's bottom to his right hip and leg. Harry shivered in delight as he grew harder by the second. The same was true to Dean whose erection started to brush against Harry's still covered butt.

Dean's teeth sank harshly on the junction between Harry's neck and shoulder but he licked the already bruising flesh in apology. His apology started to extend itself in kisses and licks and deliciously tempting small bites that followed Harry's vertebrae as if saluting each and every one of them until Dean's tongue was tracing the elastic band of Harry's pajama bottoms. Harry shivered. Dean's hand lowered the garment freeing Harry's legs and leaving him naked and hard against the heavy blanket. The wizard smelt of soap, his lover noticed… The one Dean had packed with his things. It was cheap and smelt familiar. It reminded Dean of their apartment in Boston and it brought him comfort. Dean nuzzled Harry's crack and he moaned. Dean loved to hear Harry moan, it made him so his. Dean parted Harry's butt cheeks with his hands and licked his bud.

Once, twice… Harry was whimpering, begging with each lick. Pleasure coursed through his body and he knew then and again, why he fell for Dean. He trusted the man. He trusted him with his body and soul. There was no surprise or fear when he felt the first slick finger brush his asshole. It was trust and pleasure and both of them having a hell of good time. The smell of apple-flavored lube mixing with the familiar smell of Dean's musk and that was as close to heaven as Harry ever got. The second and third finger only made him more loud as he moaned, but soon it wasn't enough and Harry was begging.

"Dean, please… Please…"

He didn't need to say more. Dean knew his wizard like the back of his hand.

Harry felt the body behind him shift and soon he was feeling Dean's lips in his neck and his dick pushing in… Slowly.

"Fuck, Baby… You're so tight." The hunter whispered as he waited for Harry to get comfortable. This wait was too much for Harry. His want was so that he was beyond worrying about himself. He started moving on Dean, he wanted Dean to fuck him 'till he saw stars and Dean groaned at the feeling of Harry's movement. In a moment, they picked up a pace. In, out, in, out, Dean's hand flying in Harry's dick at the same pace… And Harry moaned more, and Dean groaned with him, like a rehearsed orchestra. Soon Dean was pounding into Harry with abandon and it didn't take long for them both to reach heaven.

Sticky, sated and breathing heavily, Dean took himself out of Harry and held him close. Harry was already out, in the land of dreaming as Dean whispered in his sleeping lover's ear.

"Love ya, baby."

 

To be Continued…


	9. Harryssexual

"So we are going to a Ball on Friday?"

Dean asked, fully dressed, and sat on the sofa with both feet up the coffee table.

"Yes… I made a visiting plan." Harry said, shyly. He knew he had loads of people to see before the end of this trip, he only expected to have the time to do everything and that Dean would come with him. "If you would like to come…"

"I told you. Wherever it is, I'm going." Dean smirked. "Lord Potter." And laughed a bit. It was funny how these words on Malfoy's mouth could hurt and offend and in Dean's they were only an inside joke. A very sexy one at that...

"Today, I asked Hermione to come, so that we can talk strategy for the Ball. Maybe even get us some dancing lessons. It will be a total disaster if we don't know, at least, the basics… Tomorrow, we'll have to visit Molly at the Barrow for dinner. According to Andromeda, Molly decided to call my school mates, she and Teddy as well as all the Weasley siblings, so… Heaven help us, we will need it."

Dean's mouth twisted in distaste at the mention of dancing and the thought of dinner with all of Harry's British friends. The moment was broken with the sound of the doorbell: Hermione.

"'Release the lions.'" Dean quoted any Ceasar from any old roman movie he had watched in the countless motels through his life. He had thought fun the way the lions chased the poor Christians through the arena. At that moment, thinking about dinner the following night and the Ball at the end of the week he couldn't think in any other explanation but the one that said he was the Christian this time.

That day, they talked about wizarding etiquette, dancing customs, different kinds of food which Hermione had asked from a House-Elf special bistro, so that Dean could taste them beforehand and not embarrass himself eating something he did not like. It ended up that Dean was as bad as Ron when it came to food and there wasn't a dish anywhere he didn't liked. Some of them were still half alive but he said they tasted like oysters. Not the fancy ones, the ones you buy from the fishermen and eat it from its shell with a bit of lime. Hermione only wasn't astounded by some of his eating habits because, hey, Ron did eat some really funky stuff sometimes and she was married to the guy.

The thing really got ugly when she decided it was time to learn a few dancing steps. Just after lunch, Ron arrived to help Hermione, who was on leave from work and that was how she had been so available. And at that moment, they were four. Three guys and a woman. That meant they were one girl short for Harry and Dean's dancing lessons.

"Dean, Ron will be your lady." Hermione said, positioning herself with Harry.

"Hell no." Dean shot back as Ronald also got in his opinion at the same second. "Not in wildest dreams, Hermione" 

"You are gay, what's the problem?" She asked Dean as if her husband hadn't spoken at all. She could easily deal with Ron.

"That's exactly my problem." Ron answered, but was ignored again.

"I'm not gay, I just like Harry." Dean stated as if it was obvious and she was dense for asking.

"That does not make you gay?" She asked back, exasperated, piching the bridge of her nose.

"Maybe, but I'm not hugging some random dude!" Dean declared with finality and that made Harry smile as his heart felt warmer inside. 

"Thank you!" Ronald said feeling relieved.

Hermione, on the other hand, took a deep breath to calm herself. "Alright! Ron, stand here where I am."

Her husband grumbled a little but complied. It was Harry, after all. If he would had to be funny with Ron in anyway, he already would have been and it would have already been weird which wasn't. In Ron's mind that made perfect sense, if you know what I mean. They grew up together and it was never weird in anyway. Harry was like one of his brothers. Ron only made sure to throw a dirty warning look in Dean's direction that said: 'My wife, no one to get funny with.' Dean smiled a predator's smile on Ron's direction which said: 'You keep your hands off mine I keep my hands off yours.' And that was fairly a good deal on both parts.

By early evening it was over. Harry dispatched Ron and Hermione while Dean decided to see what was on TV that night. Said TV was hidden behind one of the curtains of the living room just to the left of the fireplace. The fire was lit, the place was warm and Dean had a satisfied grin in his face as he sat on the sofa to watch Lord Potter's television. A 65" flatscreen just like the one in Mac's Bar with cable. Harry came back from the door and sat beside Dean who sprawled himself on the sofa with his head on Harry's lap. They settled for watching a rerun of some hockey game from two nights back. It took overall 10 minutes to have them both sleeping on the couch, the wonderful TV set totally forgotten.

 

To be Continued…


	10. Visiting - Part 1

The next day, Harry woke up early. Even if he hadn't slept that well the night before (at three in the morning, they woke up cold, the fire dead on the hearth and a terrible pain in their necks.), he wanted to visit a few places that day. Many places, actually.

He felt inspired, though, and went on cooking scrumbled eggs, pancakes, sausages... Most the things he just felt like cooking and 'coincidentally' were all Dean's favorites. It didn't take long for 'sleeping beauty' to wake up to the smell of food.

"Hum… Man, this smells awesome."

"I'm sure it does. It's my cooking, you see." Harry commented, proud of his work.

"Hummmm… Hummm… I missed your food. How long are we eating take outs, anyway?" Dean asked as he took in the first forkful of eggs.

"Dean, we have been here for two days." Harry explained slowly as if to tell him not to be such a drama queen.

"Yeah, but before that I was hunting and after that before we came here you were too busy to cook." Dean explained like a petulant child, and Harry could almost see his pout as he concluded Dean was right. He hadn't noticed it had been such a long time since he had cooked anything.

"Sorry about that, I'll cook something special tomorrow them. Today, I have a really tight schedule." He answered.

"Where are we going?" Dean asked, his mouth full of pancakes.

"We are visiting. By apparition. So try not to stuff yourself or you're going to be ill." Harry said as he prepared to leave.

Dean finished up, put on his warmest winter coat, the one Harry had given him for playing hockey at the lake, and prepared to leave, it was so cold outside.

They stepped out the door, Dean put on his glasses, the ones Harry had given him so that he could see wizarding stuff and Harry held his hand.

They popped out of existence and reappeared in a cold little village covered in snow. The buildings weren't that high and the wind coursed through the little streets as if it was the plague. Harry pulled up his coat's collar and sank his hockey hat deeper in over his eyes. He walked those streets with heavy steps glancing at the cottages. He knew where he was going. They went down a curved slope and were met with a square in front of a small church. There was an obelisk at the center of it, full of names of dead soldiers. A war memorial it looked like.

Harry's steps were quick as he crossed the square. As they passed the obelisk, to Dean's surprise, it turned into something else. A statue of three people. It had a man with a hair case as bad as Harry's, a long haired woman with a kind face and a round-faced baby. He stopped to take a better look. They seemed somehow familiar. That was when Dean finally realized. He knew them from the framed picture that rested on the bedside table on Harry's side of their bed. They were Harry's parents, and the baby was Harry. He hadn't had the time to ask or analyze the statue better. Harry was already far ahead of him, almost at the church. He noticed then, as old churches go, this one also had a small graveyard behind it.

Dean followed Harry inside the graveyard and spotted him standing in front of two gravemarkers. One of them made out of white marble and it said:

 

JAMES POTTER                                         LILY POTTER

Born 27 March 1960                             Born 30 January 1960

Died 31 October 1981                           Died 31 October 1981

 

"The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death."

 

"Hullo, mom. Dad." Harry started as he felt Dean stand behind him. "This is Dean Winchester. We've been taking care of each other for a year now."

Dean looked at the grave and nodded his head.

Harry took out a small box from his pocket, opened it and took out a few white buttons. He placed a handful of them on top of the grave and waved his hand. The white buttons changed substance and size and in a few seconds he was looking at a dozen white lilies. "I miss you." He said. "I wish Dean could meet you."

Harry was holding his cold façade quite bravely, but there was no need for it. The graveyard was empty. Dean wrapped his right arm around Harry and brought him close.

"If they were anything like you they were awesome." Dean said, kindly.

"I wish I knew." Harry said, his voice so sad, but smiled a little. Dean hugged him and kissed him. Harry held him tight for what could be a day or what could be a few minutes. They parted their embrace and Harry took a deep breath, rubbed the corners of his eyes with the hills of his hand and centered himself before turning his eyes to the second gravemarker. It was black granite and it read:

 

SEVERUS TOBIAS SNAPE

Born 9 January 1959

Died 2 May 1998

"He won't be forgotten"

 

"Hey there, Snape. Long time no see… In the end, I'm still the only one to visit you." Harry said as he dropped a red button from his box and from it a rose bud was transfigured. "I hope you are good. And I'm keeping my promise. I won't forget you. Ever." Harry looked at Dean and smiled. It was a nostalgic and ironic smile.

"He hated me. And I him. For all the wrong reasons. I should have listened to him all those years ago." Harry said with a sad smile.

"Who was him?" Dean asked.

"The bravest man I ever met. My potions professor." Harry said missing greatly the Half-Blood Prince from his potions text book. He had always felt like that boy had been a friend. And in a way that was the closest he ever got to knowing Snape behind his many masks. 

Again there was silence. Silence for the dead.

Harry gripped Dean's hand and popped out of there.

 

 

To be Continued…


	11. Visiting - Part 2

What at first looked as the back rear of a palomino horse was in truth a thing, half-man half-horse, which looked like a Californian surfer, with sun-kissed skin, blond-white hair and blue eyes, oh, and a horse's ass.

"Harry Potter." The surfer horse said.

"Firenze." Harry said as way of salute. "I thought I was well hidden under my coats." He commented.

"You are. But the stars have been telling us of your arrival. And that of your consort. There will come the day when the Master Over Death will return and he will bring Michael's Rebelious Sword. For that will be the shield to Protect the House of Peverell from Ruin and Madness." Said the blue eyed man-horse.

"Dean, this is Firenze. He used to be one of my teachers." Harry declared. He liked Firenze, but the biggest problem with Centaurs was that they were always looking too far into the future for most people to comprehend.

"Right. What did he teach?" Dean said as if humoring the crazies.

"Divination."

"Oh."

"You came for those you lost." Firenze said.

"Just paying them my respects." Harry said, putting on top of Dumbledore's tomb a pair of socks. "I don't know when I'll be back here. And I wanted to see Hogwarts, once more."

"Then, go ahead. The Headmasters surely will want a word." Firenze said with a nod. Harry nodded back and touched the white tomb, looking at the name once more before asking Dean to follow him to the castle.

The place was huge, old and beautiful; Dean even thought it made sense wanting to come back to that place even if it was a school. The stone corridors were deserted; the students probably were in class. The paintings on the walls though, like the pictures from the newspaper Hermione had showed them and the pictures Harry kept on their bedside table, moved. They curiously scrutinized them and a few even followed them around through other paintings' frames as they walked towards the Headmaster's office.

As they got to the gargoyle, Harry thought for a moment what could be the password.

"Who are you, strangers? And who do you think you are to enter the castle without invitation or escort?" The stone statue inquired.

"I came here because I thought I was still welcome, I came to talk to the Headmasters' paintings." Harry answered taking off his hockey hat.

"Well, Harry Potter. You'll always be welcome here, this school owns you a big debt, but without the password I can't let you in." The Guardian said.

"Mr. Potter?" Harry heard a familiar voice behind him. It was Minerva McGonagall, still Headmistress since the War. The last ten years had been kind to her as they are to Wizards, it never ceased to amaze Harry. She was still the same strict looking woman, the kind to take no nonsense, with just a few more lines on her face. And her hair got a lot more white streaks than he was used to seeing in her tight bun.

"Headmistress."

"So you were marauding around the castle without permission again." She said a bit irritated to know that Harry had penetrated the castle's defenses so easily, but happy to see him again on her own way. A very proper way as all things McGonagall.

"Sherbet Lemon." She said to the gargoyle and it moved. The spiral staircase moving upwards as they stepped on it. "Wizard escalators." Dean commented to himself, but the old witch had heard him clearly.

"A muggle?" She asked.

"Dean Winchester, ma'm." He offered his hand.

"An American muggle?" She said with distaste but it seemed that the fact that he was American bothered her a great deal more than the fact that he was muggle, but she shook his hand anyway. "That solves the mystery of the week. Everyone in the Wizarding World has been asking who was Lord Potter's companion to Diagon Ally, the papers have been creating dreadful theories." She said informing Harry of what was going on in a way that reminded Dean of Hermione.

The room before the Headmistress office was round and its walls were covered in portraits. Each one brought a tag with a name and date.

"They were all the Headmasters Hogwarts ever had…" She told Dean. "With the exception of the Four Founders. No one ever found their portraits."

Harry was quiet, looking at the familiar faces and feeling again like he was twelve waiting for the Headmaster, covered in dirt, his body sore, with a destroyed journal and a sword at hand after killing a Basilisk.

"Harry, my boy! So glad to see you well. SO glad." Said the portrait of and old man, who had a long white beard, wore a purple robe with stars and wore half moon glasses. His tag said Albus Dumbledore. The old man had a relieved sad look on his eyes which weren't twinkling as much as Harry was used to in the old days.

"It's been a long time, sir. And I'm also glad to see you and Hogwarts again."

"Aberforth told me you two had a long conversation." Dumbledore said lowering his eyes in shame.

"He helped me a lot. To understand many of your decisions. But I didn't come here to talk about the past. I brought you socks." He told the old Headmaster and Dean was feeling once more in one of those dialogs that made no sense at all.

The old man smiled, flattered that Harry remembered, relieved that his student seemed to have forgiven him. Harry accioed the socks he had left at the tomb and after a small spell they were painted on Dumbledore's contented hands.

"Been saving the world lately, Mr. Potter?" said another Headmaster, this one a guy named Phinneas Nigellus. "Not so much, Phinneas. Though I've been missing your painting at in Grimmuald Place. Do you know where those house elves put it, anyway?" Harry asked.

"If I'm not mistaken, close to the dungeons stairs, Lord Black. Which is definitely better than end up in a storage room with Walburga and the others." Answered the portrait with a satisfied smile at not being shut off in a dark room with only his terrible relatives for company.

"You should stop by sometime for chatting… " Answered Harry.

"Maybe I will." Phinneas said with a smirk as if it was a threat.

Harry's eyes fell on the empty frame that showed the tag: Severus Snape.

"Is he not in?" He asked.

"Oh, I am, Mr. Potter." Snape's drawl filled the room as he walked into his frame, his robes billowing as they used to do when he walked the corridors in life.

"I visited you today." Harry said as way of small talk.

"Should I feel grateful for that? That the Savior of the Wizarding World stopped by my grave?" The painting sneered at Harry and Dean had to count to ten not to say some truths to the douche bag.

"No. I just want you to know that I've been keeping my promise."

"I never asked any of it from you." The sour painting answered. 

"But you never let me down when I was a boy, even though you couldn't stand the sight of me." Harry explained kindly with a small smile at the corner of his lips.

Snape's sallow cheeks grew slightly rosy with what could only have been embaressment."I still can't." He completed, stubborn as ever.

Harry simply smiled wider at him feeling nostalgic.

 

To be Continued…


	12. Visiting the In-Laws

"You were awfully quiet today." Harry told Dean.

"This place sometimes feels like I just walked into an Episode of the Twilight Zone." The Winchester answered. They were in front of the Burrow, night had just fallen, the first stars were apearing in the sky and the lights from the windows illuminated the porch. Harry knocked.

"Are you ok?" He asked for good measure.

"Yeah." The blond man answered not sounding that reasuring.

The door opened to reveal an older redheaded woman that reminded them both of Ginny. Harry felt his heart heavy with pain. Now he remembered why he visited so little.

"Oh, Harry dear. I missed you so much." The woman hugged Dean's lover as if he was a long lost child and Dean felt a bit jealous. He had never had someone fuss over him like the woman was doing with Harry. He remembered Mary's tears as she told him that she couldn't give up her children and his heart felt a little warmer. This visit was messing up with them both in so many levels.

"Come in, come in." They obeyed Mrs. Weasley as she ushered them in. "You must be Dean. Welcome, dear. It's so good that Harry has found such a good friend." She hugged Dean too and the man was so surprised he stood still during the action. As he regained his movements he managed a shy: "Thank you, ma'm."

"Friend my -" A young voice said just to be cut by an older female one. "Teddy, manners."

"It's true!" The 14 year old boy insisted.

Harry's heart warmed as his eyes laid on Teddy and Andromeda, his closest family lately. He winked at Teddy as if telling him just to hold for a second.

Hermione and Ron came and welcomed them warmly. Luna and Neville also said hello. Charlie was also there and presented himself to Dean for the first time, Percy and his wife Penelope welcomed the American, as did Bill, his daughter Vicky and his astounding veela wife, Fleur, whose funny accent just destroyed all the magic for Dean. George came and said something about missing his favorite couple as he put an arm around each one of them.

For a moment Dean lost Harry to the crowd of old friends and fell to the background as he sat beside Teddy who was waiting his turn to say hello to Harry.

"Your grandma keeps you in a tight leash, huh?" Dean asked.

"Ha, ha, let's make fun of the teenaged werewolf." Said Teddy sarcastic.

"No pun intended." Dean raised his hands signaling he came in peace and that the joke was totally unintended, which was total bullshit and Teddy knew.

"Right. I know you, Winchester. You are more of a wolf in sheep's skin than I'll ever be." The boy said, joking easily with the older man. He liked Dean, he made Harry lighter, happier.

"Yeah, it's official, you are spending too much time with us at the bar. That sharp tongue of yours... Your grandma will kick my ass because of that." Dean complained shaking his head in disapproval. Teddy had spent his summer with them at the bar that year, and the close contact with Dean, Harry and the patrons had really changed Teddy's manner of speech. He even fell into American slang sometimes, which his grandmother highly disapproved.

"Dean, if you weren't such a pain in my ass, the Slytherins would be using me to wipe the great hall's floors, as they did in the beginning of the year. Wolf boy and all, they are all a bunch of SOBs." Said the boy irritated by the mere memory of his bullies.

Dean smiled at the boy, happy to help. He looked around to see if Andromeda or Harry were paying attention to him in a conspiring manner.

"You know, I've heard some things about you and girls… And I brought you something." Dean said and slipped a brown paper bag to the boy. Teddy discretely looked inside.

"Busty Asian Beauties, Especial Edition with Hentai?" He said, so excited it almost blew their cover. Dean glared at him.

"Yeah. But keep it down. Your grandma and Harry will have my hide if they hear about this."

"Thanks, man! Thanks!" It was all the boy said as he hugged the older man.

"Ted, I'm only doing this because you brits are too slow, no offence. I like you, man, and I don't want you to end up like Longbottom. Look at him." They both looked at Neville who was blushing as George made fun of him liking Luna yet again. "He is a nice dude and all, but it took his whole life for him to get laid. Harry himself was a virgin 'till he was 18. I don't want a life of suffering for you. You are my man."

"Thanks, man, I really appreciate it." The boy answered.

"What is it, that you appreciate?" Harry asked coming close to them with the company of Andromeda.

"Our visit." Dean lied quickly and it worked like a charm.

 

To be Continued…


	13. One Short Day of Peace

After surviving dinner with all the in-laws Dean never thought he would have to meet dating an orphan, they went back to Grimmuald Place and had nice drunken sex. Firewhiskey was an awesome thing. It made it to Dean's top five favorites in the drinks department together with common Whiskey, Tequila and some others.

They woke up early once more on the day after. Dean wasn't happy about it especially with a magical hangover pounding behind his eyes. Harry, though, wanted to make something special for Dean that day. He made breakfast, gave Dean a hangover potion and put on comfortable, muggle clothes. Dean had no idea what Harry intended when he didn't put on his hockey hat. He didn't cover his face.

That morning they walked out the door and instead of apparating, Harry took him to the subway, or the tube as Harry referred to it. They rode it to Westminster Station and as soon as he was out Dean realized he was at the Big Ben's feet. They proceeded to walk around the Parliament and stopped by Westminster Abbey. Then, they rode to Tower Hill Station, where they saw London Bridge, and then moved to Tower Bridge where they paid to see the Crown Jewels and the crows that lived there. Dean felt sorry for them, as he heard they had their wings clipped so that they wouldn't fly away. It was sad really to be bound to one place against your will, he could sympathize with that. It also made him think of Cas. They took the tube again to Charing Cross Station where they could take pictures of Trafalgar Square's Lions.

They fed the ducks at St. Jame's Park. And decided to walk a bit about the British Museum, but just a bit as it was too big to see it all.

They had lunch in a charming little Italian restaurant named Ciao Bella, having great pasta and awesome wine. Dean liked it, even though he wasn't a wine kind of guy. Harry was happy and laughing and Dean made fun of the infamous "Mind the Gap" on the British subway stations. Harry decided then to buy Dean a "Mind the Gap" T-shirt and so he did.

Taking the tube again they went to 221B, Baker Street and could see Sherlock Holme's Museum and they had fun every minute of it.

They crossed Abbey Road's zebra and took pictures Beatle's Style. Dean even got to tell Harry the whole conspiracy theory about how the real Paul McCartney was supposedly dead and the one they saw now on TV was an impostor.

When the day started to wane, Harry called a cab, and took them to the south bank of the Thames, where they rode the London Eye, one of the biggest Ferris wheels on the planet and Dean didn't let Harry's hand go one second. He had to admit the view was breathtaking with the sun sinking west and coloring the river with orange and red colors. They rode a red double-decker back to Grimmuald Place as the temperature dropped quickly after the sun set and they felt good and at peace for one whole day.

It didn't last. 

It never did with them.

They found Hermione on Number 12's doorstep pale and frantic, Ron with her. He looked like he could murder someone.

"Oh, Harry!" She hugged her friend trying to comfort him. Harry looked at her with humor in his eyes.

"Hermione, torture is yet to begin; the Ball isn't in a few hours." He joked.

"You haven't seen it yet, then. They decided to start it early, mate." Ron said and held him the Daily Prophet.

Harry froze at the sight of it. It was all about the front page picture. He hadn't even read the headline. It hurt him; it hurt him so much to have such a personal and private moment like that splashed in cheap newspaper ink for everyone to see. How dare they?

It was a picture of trip they had made a few days before. It was he and Dean locked in a desperate kiss in front o Harry's Parents' grave in Godric's Hollow. It had been the first time he had taken Dean to see his parents. The headline said: "Truth Revealed! Harry Potter left his wife for secret male lover! Unbalanced, Ginerva Potter turned to the dark-side. Read it all on page 5." Harry didn't waste his time. He unlocked the door and entered. He was somber and angry and he didn't accept Hermione's hug when she offered it once more. Ron, on the other hand, just kept throwing pitiful glances at his friend. For a moment there they were the Golden Trio again. Fighting against the cruel articles Rita Skeeter was writing for the Prophet during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. For a moment they forgot all about Dean and for that he was grateful. He hated that place. He hated the Wizarding Freaking World. They had to hit Harry's heart at every opening, the bastards. They had to hurt him in every aspect of his life. He couldn't have a single moment of peace. It reminded Dean of the other Hunters' reactions to him when he killed the Devil, but soon he became legend and no one came near Boston anymore so he mostly avoided that. This was a lot worse. This was 24/7 scrutiny every since Harry was 11.

Harry's face was a stone-cold mask.

"Hermione, Ron," Harry said his voice low and emotionless. "Thank you for the warning. Tonight we go to the Ball and we needed to be ready for this. It's a good thing that tomorrow we will deal with Ginerva's file and get this over with."

 

To be Continued…


	14. Chapter 14

"Lord Harry Potter, also Lord Black, Order of Merlin, First Class; The Boy Who Lived, The Man Who Defeated Voldemort, Savior of the Wizarding World and Mr. Dean Winchester." Announced the man at the door who had been announcing every one who entered the ballroom hall. Every living soul there turned to look at them. Not with kind gazes that was for sure. Some ladies looked horrified, some lords disgusted, they all were judging them, measuring them, disapproving of them. Like they were the trash they forgot to put outside and now was stinky. Dean had to fight hard to keep his temper, especially after Harry's hurt face only hours before, as he looked at the newspaper. That moment had been theirs and had been special and they had turned it into something gross. It was none of their fucking business and they sneered and laughed like it was. Their voices were hushed but Dean had good hearing. "Lord Potter turned his wife into a mad killer for this?" They said. "Just a filthy, powerless muggle. Just a weakling." Others commented, poisonously. "Who would have thought Lord Potter had a thing for pretty boys…" Said those who laughed. Dean took deep slow breaths; it wouldn't be good for Harry if he started kicking peoples' asses as he so wanted.

A servant, then, came and took them to the dinning hall where they were lead to their seats that were at the highest table, both to the right from the head of the table. They had been the last to arrive and all guests had been just waiting on the "special guest". Soon, the whole table was occupied by people Dean didn't know and by the looks of it neither did Harry.

The man at the head table had longish brown hair and brown eyes. He had well trimmed beard and the look of something hungry… A crazed look of one who had been touched by Famine who had a predator's grim. On his robe, he had embroidered the crest of the Ministry of Magic. That had to be the new Minister of Magic, Telonius Tate.

"Well, well, well, if it's not the Prodigal Son himself. Harry Potter. It's so nice to make your acquaintance." The man smiled his toothy fake grin at Harry, ignoring Dean totally. At that moment, the salad was served.

Harry nodded his head. "Minister." He said politely.

To the left of the Minister, sat a gray haired fellow, older than even the Minister.

"This is Randolf Hillside, our new Headauror. I asked him to invite you personally." The Minister announced.

"Yeah, with a VERY subtle blackmail letter. So nice of you." Dean said sarcastically under his breath, but all the others ignored him.

"Mr. Hillside." Harry nodded at the grayheaded auror.

The Minister gave Mr. Hillside a sign and the Auror cast a Muffliato charm around them, no one could hear that conversation but the four men on the head of the highest table.

"I was so glad to hear you were coming to the party. You know, when Headauror Hillside found Ginerva Potter's secret at one of your forgotten states, at first, my plan was to lure you here and use your popularity to my favor in the up coming elections in exchange for it." He paused.

"Others had tried, Minister, if I'm not mistaken, three of your predecessors had." Harry answered reminding the man that it has never worked before, why would it now.

"The people here loved you and adored you and treated you like a bigger legend than Albus Dumbledore. All because you survived to the killing curse… Twice." The bearded man continued.

"Cough, cough…Three times…" Dean faked a cough and muttered on his second course. Harry glared at him for a moment, but the other men didn't seem to have heard him.

"No one has proof of that." Harry answered.

"Still, they used to idolize you." The Minister said.

"You know I do not plan on helping you." Harry said.

"I know that. And that is exactly why I asked the Prophet to follow you and soil your reputation. And they didn't even have to go as far as making a fake picture, you created a shameful picture yourself and so wonderfully." The Minister laughed, delighted. "You consorted, publically with a muggle man!" The Minister said enthusiastically. "Lord Potter, when I'm finished, you'll be a regret to this people. And I… I'll be their new savior. The one to reveal the truth of Harry Potter. You just give me time."

A few seconds passed and Dean was ready to break the man's jaw when Harry decided to answer, very politely s the man hasn't just threatened him.

"Minister… I beg your pardon if my question is inconvenient, but… Where were you at the time of the War?" Harry paused for a moment but it was a rhetorical question. "What about you, Mr. Hillside? I heard from a friend that you were called back from retirement to take on the Auror Division, were you and the Minister here, cozy and protected in your homes, with thousands of unplottable wards around it?" He asked with a raised eyebrow, matter-of-factly, not quite expecting an answer and the faces of both of them were a tell-tale faded color that said that Harry was right in his assumptions.

"I don't have to tell you where I was. Do I? Let me just refresh your memory, then. I was there, to see Voldemort kill my parents. Some say I was too young to remember, but my monther's dying scream still wake me up at night. I was there when Voldemort came back to life and killed Cedric Diggory. I was also there when Snape killed Dumbledore at his own request, as Bellatrix Lestrange pushed my godfather though the Veil. I was there to see the dead cold bodies of Fred Weasley, who was like a brother to me, of Remus and Nimphadora Lupin, whose son I now take care of. Tell me, for I'm curious, where were you?" Harry's tone was bitter and angry.

"Potter, you'd better watch it." Answered Minister Tate not in the least liking what Harry was implying.

"Should I? Or should I remind you that you are hosting this party in my honor? And that it would be terribly rude to attack a guest? We would make front page, but it would be a shame nonetheless, to ruin such delicious dinner." Harry said ironically taking a mouth-watering bite of his deliciously cooked beef.

"You could learn how to cook this, Harry, it's awesome." Dean commented with a mouthful of beef, playing along.

"Keep it to yourself, muggle." Growled Hillside, tense and angry at having Harry Potter's pansy finger at his nose saying he was a coward.

At this moment, the Minister decided to end the conversation by rising from his seat and raising his crystal glass.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I ask you all tonight to raise your glasses to the once more Savior of the Wizarding World, who once more faced death to save us, who defied and fought his own beloved wife to save us from certain slavery, the one and only Harry Potter!" Minister Tate said to all Lords and Ladies that only a moment ago were judging them, now applauded enthusiastically.

Harry also got to his feet and nodded his thanks to all on the applauding audience.

"I thank you all, but I can't accept your nobly raised glasses in my honor." He sad and there was a dead silence through the whole place.

"And that's because it wouldn't be fair to your true hero. I was not the one to save you this time." Harry said kindly to all of them, to the Minister and to Mr. Hillside. "I was being controlled by my EX-wife, Ginerva who used me to make the most powerful men in the world her prisoners. She would have the world at her feet, but we were saved. A man of great valor entered that place, braved rounds of the Cruciatus Curse and won the battle fair and square. That man's name is Dean Winchester, known in his land as the Man Who Killed The Devil. Raise, Dean, and accept our raised glasses in your honor!"

Dean raised a bit awkwardly and all the snobbish wizards that had made fun of him, all the wizards that had hurt Harry, raised their glasses to him with their left hand and their wands with the right as they wished as one:

"May Merlin's eyes hold you in their favor. Felicitus."

From the tips of the wands of all wizards present a soft golden light was shot. Like a golden and unbelievably thin veil of wished good luck, it fell on over Dean and as it touched his skin it undid itself in stardust that disappeared before touching the ground. It was one of the most beautiful things Dean had ever seen and Harry smiled at his dumbstruck expression. Harry wanted to kiss him in that moment, but he knew he was already pushing his luck. It was the first time in centuries since a muggle has been blessed with the Felicitus charm (The last time, it had gone to a newborn princess called Aurora). It granted good luck. Not like the Felix Felicis potion, but some lucky strike somewhere, when it really was needed. It was like a blessing of some kind.

Dean nodded his head in thanks.

They sat themselves back and ate delicious vanilla ice-cream covered in strawberry syrup that came to the table still on fire. The Minister kept silent but Hillside still had the heart to schedule a date and a place to give Harry Ginerva's notes.

Dean was so delighted with the small victory he even took Harry to the Dance Floor for a song or two.

All in all, that went well.

 

To be Continued…


	15. Ginerva's Secrets

A few days after, Hillside took them to the countryside. An old abandoned farm that had been under Ginerva's name and before that, under Riddle's name. It was a muggle farm from the Riddle Family with only an old blind witch and a house-elf for staff.

They took care of the house, the horses, the chickens and the cows… The main house looked like the Viper's Headquarters and Ginerva kept in her archives the names and contacts of each one of them. Thanks to the evidence there, Mr. Hillside had said, they convicted many of those who claimed to be under the Imperius Curse.

Ginerva, it seemed, kept notes on every one of her 'servants', talking to the paper as she would talk to Riddle. As if her journals would answer her like the Riddle journal did. The Signs of her Madness clearly showed in her writing, commented Mr. Hillside and he thanked Dean for saving them, this time with a sincerity he hadn't shown before.

Before they started reading the notes, though, the Headauror took them outside to the stables that were built in dark rock from those same mountains around the farm.

"It is inside." He told Harry, and Dean still didn't know what it all was about. Mr Hillside took out his wand preparing, and Harry also made the magic around him prepare. Dean took out his gun and wondered if it would keep him safe, he just hoped it would.

Hillside opened the door and out of habit, Dean barged in as he would do when working with Sam, Harry cursed and followed immediately.

The light from the door wasn't enough to see what exactly it was, but it looked like some kind of animal. It was small, and the stench of the room made it clear he was kept there at all times and there was no one to clean the place.

"Dear Merlin…" Dean heard Harry mutter behind him. And the thing growled at them. "Careful now." Dean said, but the thing seemed tense and ready to strike.

Before they had time to blink, it launched itself to Harry's throat. He wasn't expecting such an attack and ended up falling to the ground closer to the door. Dean couldn't shoot or he could hurt Harry, so he launched himself at the filthy thing and contained it long enough for Harry to regain his bearings and throw a stupefy at it.

As it stopped trashing Dean finally managed to get a good look at it in the light that came from the door. What he first thought was fur, was in truth hair. Black, matted and dirty hair. And the flailing claws that grabbed Harry's throat, were little fingers that were too strong to such little a creature. And worst of all…

It wasn't a thing.

It was a kid.

 

To be Continued…


	16. Chapter 16

Harry seemed too shocked.

Too shocked to move, to speak, to do anything but stare at it. Dean on the other hand, had the thing limp on his arms, so he went for caution. First, he splashed it with a bit of holy water, made a small cut with a silver knife and then took out a mirror from his back pocket and saw that the kid was just a kid, no demon in disguise, no werewolf, no hidden changeling, no hag that looked like a child. Just a kid. A little kid. In desperate need of a shower.

Not really caring to see if the others were following him, Dean led the way back to the farm house taking the knocked out kid. He asked Mrs. Bright, the blind servant, to prepare a spare room and maybe if she had the time, to scrub some of dirt off of the kid, so that he wouldn't ruin her linens for good. She smiled at the sound of his voice and at his request. She clapped her freckled old hands and an ugly little creature that looked a lot like the heads at the Wall of Honor in Grimmuald Place appeared in front of Dean.

"Ishmael take care of this, sir. I scrub all dirt, sir. Young sir, will be as clean as new!" Said the house-elf, and Dean looked uncertain if he should leave the kid to the creature.

"Dean, he can take over now." Harry said, still a bit pale, as he entered the main hall followed by Mr. Hillside, who, in the end, had been no help at all in the small battle. Dean nodded his head and gave the kid to the house elf.

"What are these things anyway?" He asked as Ishmael disappeared.

"House elves, Dean. Have been serving Wizards for hundreds of years now, really good with children." Harry answered, assuring his lover, though his voice still cracked.

"Right. I tell you this is one freakish place. In my time, moms took care of their kids." Dean commented. Every time reality became too weird even for him he just had to let it out someway.

"Are you talking about the farm or the whole Wizarding World?" Asked Harry, still not quite his natural color.

"Both." He said looking around to the horrid decoration, but what to expect from crazy-eyes (Ishmael, the house elf) and the blind old lady. He, then, turned his eyes to Harry and he worried a bit because of his reaction. "You ok? The kid jumped you good out there, are you feeling alright?"

Harry let out a deep breath and nodded even though he looked pale and sick.

At noon the house elf served them food. Good food, but nothing that could compare to Harry's own. They lounged a bit in the living room and after that went to Ginerva's office where Harry started a dangerous dive into the crazy mind of his ex-wife.

Dean soon was tired of that. He didn't quite understand half of what he was reading, he didn't know the spells, nor the people, just the madness and that soon tired him. He got up from the chair he had been sitting on and let curiosity get the better out of him. He walked to the room where Crazy-eyes (Dean couldn't call a small guy like that with a name such as Ishmael) said he had taken the kid to and took a peek inside.

Crazy-eyes had cut all that dirty hair and really scrubbed away all that grime. The kid was clean, and dressed like a 'normal' witch-kid. He was too thin for his own good and was still asleep. Dean found the place's kitchen and asked Crazy-eyes for some of that stuff they ate at lunch. It had been a nice roasted meat with potatoes. The smell of it was great and as soon as he opened the door to the kid's room with the food tray, the little one opened beautiful green eyes at him and attacked again.

Not him, as Dean had expected, but the meat. The kid went in, hands first, and ate every little crumb of food in less than five minutes. He looked at Dean with wary distrustful eyes the whole time, as if he was going to be punished for having eaten. With a very careful hand and slow predictable movements, so as not to have his hand bitten off, Dean used the napkin on the kid's face and it looked bewildered at him as if the the kindness of the gesture was something of a novelty.

"They did quite a number in your head, kid. But no worries. There. I'm one of the good guys, you'll see." Dean winked at the kid and used his best I'm-a-cool-adult voice, the same he had used with Ben and Lucas. He didn't like to admit it, but he did have a way with kids.

The kid for his part just cocked his head to the side much as Cas used to do. That made Dean smile.

"Do you have a name?" He asked.

The kid just looked at him as if he didn't make any sense at all.

"Until you tell me your name, I'll call you Cas, for short. From Castiel."

The kid just licked his own hands from the roast's sauce and looked at Dean with bright curious green eyes.

"You do act a lot like Cas." Dean smiled.

 

To be Continued…


	17. Ginny's Diary

March 12th, 2005

It's been three weeks.

Three weeks since he kicked me out of the house.

He doesn't deserve it. The gold, the houses, the power… He doesn't have a clue to what to do with it all. I'm glad not to have to avoid him anymore... Him and his kisses and his puppy love. But I'll miss his money. Money made everything so much easier. Living in Seamus' small apartment, I realize that. When he asks for the divorce I'll get a good lawyer and leave him penniless. Sounds fun! Meanwhile, though, I can organize myself. Restructure the group, call forth those who, like me, think that Harry's ideal is rubbish. I will build a new group and avenge my dead lover, my Lord, my Voldemort… Poor Seamus… Like Harry, I think he loves me… Worse, he actually thinks I'm in love with him! Men are so easy… They'll believe in anything these days.

March 26th, 2005

It's been five weeks. And I have done nothing but puke for the last one. I feel tired, and my body hurts.

I think I may be pregnant. The question that remains is:

Is it Potter's or Finnigan's?

Hope it is Potter's…

June 25th, 2005

The thing in my womb is almost 5 months old, and even though the morning sickness is gone, it keeps kicking me. I hate it and I feel it hates me back. If it is Seamus', I'll kill it. I'll search for one of those power rituals that need a newborn's blood. This is such a waste of my energy, of my life.

If it is Potter's, though… It is a perfect opportunity.

I'll raise my Mordred as Morgan did. I'll poison his mind, and hone his skills, I'll build his power and his hate. He will be the perfect Potter Killer as Harry was my lover's. Oh, Tom, why couldn't this child be yours?

October 15th, 2005

I'm huge and it's been 9 months since this leech has taken residence inside my body. Each passing day I grow, more and more distressed. I want it dead so badly. I can feel it will try to kill me too. I decided to try and bring it to the world earlier, or I will end up killing myself just to kill it with me.

October 20th, 2005

The thing came to this world yesterday.

It is male, weak and ugly. My breasts hurt with the amount of milk my traitorous body produced for this thing, but I can barely lay eyes on it without feeling repulsion. It has a dark mop of hair that sticks in every direction. I don't need a lineage spell to know where that hair had come from. I asked Seamus to pay for an old nurse to take it to the country side, so that I don't have to look at it before it is time to start his training… For he will be trained to hate and to endure, he will be a monster, and Harry's loving will fall on a wasteland of hate. If I can't kill him like I have always wanted, I can still damage his child beyond repair… And the taste of his tears will be sweet as mine were bitter as I cried for Tom.

October 20th, 2007

Today, the thing completes 2 years of existence and it is time to begin its training. It walks and talks according to the woman who takes care of it and from today on it will be locked in a dark cell to teach it endurance. It will eat little and fight a lot. It will learn to hate Potter as I do. I wonder what it looks like. It is the first time I wondered that in 2 years. Never saw it after I got it out of me. Guess I'll find out soon. I had to blind the old nurse that took care of it. She had grown attached the leech. Tried to convince me not to do it. Silly woman. That taught her to mind her own business.

January 30th, 2008

It looks just like Harry. Black messy hair and green eyes. Lily Potter's eyes. It could be good-looking if it wasn't so starved. But I don't intend to see it good-looking, I like to see it as a destroyed version of Potter. It is a pleasure to see it suffer because I can imagine it is Harry. I wonder if it was this the kind of pleasure Snape felt when he made Harry's life hell.

I almost killed it, today. It is so weak. But it does have spirit. I hit it with a spell after five quick attacks, and it hit the wall. He is starting to show magic which is highly uncommon. He will be powerful. It fell to the floor after I hit it and wouldn't get up even after I told it to. It always obeys me because it knows that if it doesn't, it won't have food after.

Such a good dog. It still pisses itself in fear of me now and them. And all it sees… Is Harry's face. I hope to live to see the day when it will kill his own father… Just like Mordred killed Arthur, just like Arthur killed Uther… A filthy little beast it is turning out to be, a baby-faced killer.

To be Continued...


	18. Baby Faced Killer

Harry walked the house as if he was a ghost. Some would even mistake him for one. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his remarkable green eyes were bloodshot and weary from a long sleepless night of research and contained crying. His clothes were wrinkled but he didn't seem to care. He walked heavy footsteps to the room Dean had had prepared for the child. He opened the door and the boy was ravishing a pile of buttered toasts and waffles with his hands, and drinking orange juice from the jug.

They had cut his hair short and even so it stuck up to all directions. He was small, pale and underfed. Before long the boy noticed his presence and turned to him who still was standing by the door. The boy let down his food and tensed up like a cornered animal. He, actually, growled at him. His small green eyes carried an amount of hate no child that young should bear.

He lunged at Harry again. The man just stood there as the small boy hit him in the stomach using his pain to throw him off his feet and climbing on top of the man as he lay back first to the floor. The boy growled and screamed happily that his nemesis, his tormentor was finally at his mercy. The little boy with little hands squeezed Harry's trachea in all the right spots for a smooth kill.

Harry didn't move. He felt frozen. He just looked at his son, tears coming down the corners of his eyes, begging forgiveness, embracing death at the hands of this poor boy that was unlucky enough to carry his blood and, it seemed, his bad luck.

Harry's vision was starting to fade from lack of air as he heard running feet. The weight of the boy's body on his chest was lifted and the small hands released his throat.

"Cas!" The strong voice warned and the boy trashed in Dean's arms, he was trying to defend himself, to run. But Dean held him and said: "No one's gonna hurt you, ok? No one's gonna hurt you. I won't let it, ok? You trust me, Cas?"

And for some unknown reason, maybe the kindness in his voice in every time they spoke, maybe the warmth Dean had in his eyes, the boy believed him, and subsided. Dean released him, smiled and messed his messy hair.

"You are awesome, Cas. Now, eat your breakfast, Crazy-eyes will come help you clean up." The boy cocked his head, confused, just as he always did when Dean used long sentences he apparently didn't understand, and went back to his food keeping a watchful eye for Harry that was still sitting on the floor.

Dean helped him up with care, and they closed the door after leaving the room. Every one in the house had been awaken by Harry's scream that morning as he was attacked and they all heard the commotion. They stood in the hallway in their pajamas and looked at them both as if not knowing what to do.

Dean passed by them without a look, taking Harry with him by the hand. He entered the room he used that night and asked Harry to close the door. Ghost Harry just went through the motions.

"What the fuck you think you are doing?" Dean asked beyond furious his voice low and controlled like he was trying really hard not to scream.

"Did you read it?" Harry asked.

"No, I was washing my panties!" Dean said, sarcastic. "Of course, I read it! What's the problem with you?"

"Dean…" Harry pleaded. "That boy…"

"That boy is your son!" Dean decided to just get it out in the open.

"Yes, he is." Harry said in a monotone, looking at the floor.

"And the bitch tortured him for 3 fucking years of his life with your face and you just…" Dean wasn't getting it. He knew now, that Cas was the reason they had crossed the Atlantic, the reason for all the political games, for all the secrets.

"Dean, it is my fault. I left this world to live a life of bliss in Boston, and let go of all my responsibilities. Ginny got out o control, if I had been close, it wouldn't have gotten as far as it did. If I had stayed I would have known about him. My poor little boy…" Harry couldn't say more. Just the thought of the boy's pain crushed him.

"Harry, it wasn't your fault. Harry, it was her… Not you. 'What if's won't change what happened. What is done is done. And now that little boy upstairs is looking to his first chance to be human again and you have to be strong and teach him." Dean said firmly.

"He hates me." The wizard said, simly.

"I know. But I'm not letting you just let him kill you. Are you out of your mind? If he does, she wins." Dean paused, letting it sink in, he knew how much Harry hated Ginny, how much he, himself, hated her. "And I won't let her win. Never. You are mine. And now that includes Cas too."

"Cas?" Harry asked, intrigued.

"Castiel. I didn't know his name and… Your boy just reminds me a lot of a friend of mine."

 

"My boy… Castiel… My son."

 

To be Continued…


	19. Meet the Potters

In two more days, they decided to leave the country and go back to Grimmuald Place. After the episode with Harry in the boy's room, the boy began to really trust Dean. Dean in the boy's mind was associated with food, kindness but especially, safety. In the boy's mind, since Dean came to him, Harry never once hurt him, so in the boy's young mind: Dean = Safety.

In those few days, they tried to bring the boy closer to his father. Harry alone would bring him food, like Dean did, but the boy didn't have the guts to get close to the tray while he was still there. But he would always eat once he left with a defeated sigh. Harry wanted so badly for Castiel to smile at him.

When they decided to leave, it was agreed that they would do it by train since they didn't want to scare Castiel by using magic. The few times Ishmael had tried to use magic to clean him up or to do anything to his room with him in it, had turned the boy in a growling beast all over again. For he was getting better, there was a lot less growling and lot more suspicious stares. So it was agreed that until he understood, there would be no magic near him, which pleased Dean inside. No magic was GOOD, was normal. Not that Harry wasn't, of course, but kids the normal way was known territory after Sammy and Johnny.

They rode a cab to the station. Harry went on the front seat beside the driver, Dean and Cas went in the back. It took fifteen minutes to convince the boy to climb in with the driver, that in the boy's mind registered as another stranger in a small room, whose character he didn't know. As the cab started moving he tried punching the window glass and bit the seats but Dean opened the window to the cold outside air, and as a dog would do the boy put his head out and seemed to deeply enjoy the ride.

The train was a similar business, but when they got to King's Cross Station, it all changed. The boy, who was fierce and defiant, stood paralyzed in fear. He had never seen so many people at once, so many different threats! They walked all around him with their weird clothes, and hair-styles. He was cornered and they were too many. He saw each and every one of them as an enemy, and they were so much bigger than him… As a last resort, in his panic he looked at Dean with terrified eyes. The man kneeled to level with the boy and said, looking into his eyes in that way that bore no doubt, that it was ok. Scared out of his wits, he threw his small arms around Dean's neck and hid his face in the crook between the man's neck and shoulder, trembling.

"Shhh… It's ok. It's ok." Dean put a hand on his back soothing, up and down. "I won't let anyone hurt you." Dean said and lifted him from the ground.

Castiel took a final breath after those words and stopped trembling.

Ishmael, the house-elf, being free to do as he pleased after his late master's death, decided that Master Harry and Master Dean needed help with the Young Sir and for a salary that Master Dean couldn't quite understand nor believe (he had asked him a conversion of his salary to dollars, but Ishmael wasn't really good at counting so Master Harry explained and Master Dean still didn't get it), he went to work for the illustrious Harry Potter. Mrs. Bright retired to take care of her eyes and her arthritis.

When the Masters arrived, the Young Masters room was already prepared accordingly to Master Harry Potter's instructions. The room was on the third floor and it looked out on the back garden. It had a bed and the biggest window with the best view in the house. Master Harry was a very intelligent man and had seen quickly that Young Sir felt bad in rooms with no windows and that he hated not seeing the sky.

When the Masters arrived with the Young Sir, Ishmael was ready. There was food on the table for dinner and the Master suite was also ready. It was such a long time since he had served such an important family… He was so happy to be there!

But soon he found out that, although they were important, they were highly unusual. Master Harry Potter rarely let him cook. He shooed the poor house-elf off the kitchen every time there was to be a meal in the house. He liked to make Young Sir's food himself and Master Dean wouldn't eat anything else. Master Dean, on the other hand, was highly methodical with duffle bag number 2, as Ishmael had taken to call it. Duffle bag number 1, was full of clothing and personals that the house-elf had full access to, but duffle bag number 2 had a lot of shiny metal things he didn't quite know and the first and only time he had gone through the things inside it Master Dean had instantly noticed and was furious. He was glad they weren't adept of physical punishment for that day Master Dean had looked like a Balrog for he had fire leaking from his eyes. He was told that those things were called guns and were off-limits.

The Young Sir, little by little, got his courage about him and left his room unaccompanied. At first, he walked only the third floor and was very territorial about it. Only Master Dean had the green card walk by it. Ishmael had to ask for permission to clean up there and Master Harry Potter was only allowed under Young Sir's personal supervision.

In the beginning he was still afraid of staying alone with Master Harry Potter, but every meal time, Master Harry called him to the table and Master Dean seemed to disapparate for a few hours. And little by little, he wasn't afraid anymore… He still wouldn't talk, but going down the stairs for meals also got him courage for more exploring… There was this day when the Masters went dead worried for no one could find Young Sir and after a whole afternoon of searching they found him playing in the Dungeons. After he explored the whole mansion, he took to playing in the gardens. He loved trees and often ruined his clothes climbing them, poor Ishmael had to accomplish miracles to save some of Young Sir's clothes, but he liked it. It was normal. Children did these things and, little by little, Young Sir was turning out normal. And according to both his Masters that was very good.

Master Dean often would take Young Sir outside. He wanted him to get used to people. Young Sir was terrified of crowds, but with Master Dean he braved his fears. Gradually, he begin to relax in their trips. Ishmael often accompanied them because Master Dean used shopping for food as an excuse to take Young Sir outside. He said they had to help the elf carry his shopping bags. He could feel offended if he wanted. Any house-elf was totally capable of handling shopping on his own, but he said nothing. For Young Sir's sake. Ishmael loved the boy. But the boy's true love was Master Dean. The elf couldn't help but noticed the envious looks Master Harry sometimes threw at them.

Poor Master Harry Potter… This kind of jealousy could drive a man mad.

To be Continued…


	20. The Lockheart Syndrome

"Dean… I'm through… I cannot…" Harry said, his back was turned to Dean, his hands on the kitchen sink and his shoulders tense.

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked as he ate his supper in the kitchen after everyone else so that Harry and Cas could have some alone time.

"He still hates me… And we are at this game for months now!" Harry was frustrated, his voice a note too high.

"I never said it was going to be easy." Dean said as he ate another spoonful of his stew. Molly Weasley's recipe according to Harry, though Dean still thought Harry's tasted so much better than Mrs. Weasley's.

"Dean, he doesn't look at me… And he still doesn't talk. Ginny's journal said he could, but he won't."

"At least, he is not afraid of you anymore, doesn't it count for something?" Dean asked, and thought for a fleeting moment about the months he couldn't find his voice way back when his mother died.

"It's just… He trusts you so much and when he looks at me… It's like he is waiting for me to hit him."

"Harry, you can't erase 3 years of conditioning with a swish of a wand. It takes a hell of a lot of time. But he is a tough little bastard, you'll see. He'll get around it." Dean said looking at Harry with a reassuring smile. It didn't seem to work, though. Harry seemed struck as if by an awesome idea.

"That's it! Why haven't I thought of that before? So simple, so brilliantly easy! Dean, I could just kiss you!" Harry said almost dancing around the room.

"Dude, I'm eating." Dean answered dead pan, he followed Harry's dance around the room and for some reason he knew he wouldn't like it. "What did I say, anyway?" He asked, for good measure, he couldn't just say no on a bad feeling.

"In a minute, my friend! I'll just call Ron and Hermione. You are such a genius!"

It didn't take long to gather up a meeting of the Golden Trio plus Dean. When they sat that way on Grimmuald's Place living room to discuss some solution to Harry's problems, Dean felt like an outsider. He hated being put in that category. Same level as the Golden Trio. Cas was a matter for them, Dean and Harry, not the Golden Fucking Trio.

"Ron, 'Mione, thanks for coming, I'll need a lot of your help." Harry stated at the new-comers and Dean liked this idea even less. Needing Hermione's help meant magic… Dean just didn't trust solutions that involved magic.

"As you know, my son doesn't stand the sight of me. All because of Ginerva's doing. But I think… I think I have the answer." Harry continued. His feverish eyes had a glint that scared Dean.

"Say it, already!" Dean almost shouted.

"Dean… I'm going to obliviate him." Harry said simply with a smile as if it was an awesome idea.

"Harry, this is dangerous!" Hermione said at once, and though Dean didn't have a clue to what meant to obliviate someone, the timber on Hermione's voice sounded bad enough. "You will try and make him forget five years of his life? Like that?" She snapped her fingers. "Don't you remember Lockheart's victims? They never were the same. Obliviating long periods of memories cause brain damage, you know that!"

"Yeah." Ron said. "Forgotten about that already, mate? The blank stares, the vacant looks… Like there was no one home? Remember how Lockheart almost turned me into a babbling fool? I can't forget that."

"He is young… It won't be like that! I'll be carefull." Harry said with glassy happy eyes.

Dean raised from his seat, closed his hand into a fist and hit Harry squarely on the jaw with his unforgettable right hook.

"You have no right to take that from him! That kid is fucking awsome! A real bad-ass! And you want to… To what? Mind fuck him? You think you have the right? He survived his crazy bitch of a mom, now he will get fucked up in the head because his dad is a pussy and can't take it?"

Harry screamed and lunged for Dean and hit him with all of his strength, and all of his strength was magically empowered punches that closed Dean's left eye in the first punch, the one that landed on his stomach made him cough blood.

Ron's training as an auror kicked in quickly, and he put Harry out as a lamp with a well aimed stupefy. Ron was known to be the best auror still active, he wouldn't let his best friend kill his lover in a fit of rage. Hermione, though out of practice, still remembered how to patch up a few wounds. She took care of Dean the best she could. They called up Ishmael who floated the limp Master Harry Potter to the Master Suite and the black and blue Master Dean to one of the Guest bedrooms. The house elf prepared another guest room for the couple and they all called a night.

And what a night.

To be Continued…


	21. Fatherhood

The following morning, as the sun rose, the first rays of sunlight found Dean's duffle bags near the door to the street.

He had asked Ishmael for a cup of coffee with no sugar and the directions and schedule for the next portkey to the US. There wasn't a living soul awaken at that god forsaken hour in the morning to talk to besides the elf. Dean was good with that, he didn't feel like facing Harry. It felt like Sam all over again. Like the night he told Sam to go and not come back. He knew it hadn't happened like that in the end, but at the time he thought it had and it felt the same. Harry had beaten the crap out of him and he was going to hurt that kid in a way that there was no going back. Dean couldn't take it… He wanted to run with the kid, but he knew Harry would go after them, worse yet Harry would feel the worst kind of betrayal if he did that. This kid was Harry's dream of a family in the flesh. If he took the kid, Harry would hate him forever. He would hate himself for doing it. But leaving the kid to be… obliv-whatever… It was against his principles. He was an innocent and he loved that kid. If Harry was anyone else… He would hunt the bastard for doing it. But he was the kid's father, and Dean was just a nobody. Harry made that pretty clear the night before. He didn't have a say in this matter. He couldn't leave, but he couldn't stay either. Not after what Harry did.

"Winchester, well good morning… What is that?" Ron let out with a yawn as he climbed down the stairs. He had noticed the bags.

"My bags." Dean answered.

"You are the pussy, then? Running with your tail between your sorry arse." He asked mockingly.

"Harry made more than clear that I'm not welcomed anymore."

"Oh? If I remember right you are the one who hit him first." Ron pointed out.

"He was being a complete douche bag." Dean commented, trying to defend himself.

"I'm not saying he wasn't, I'm just saying that Harry didn't create this mess on his own."

"Right. It's all my fault." Dean said sarcastically, he knew Ron was right, but he wouldn't relent. He was John Winchester's son, after all…

"You know, you fooled me for some time… For sometime… I thought Harry had actually found someone worth his while… Guess I was wrong. Blimey, thought you had some balls, mate." Ron threw his hands in the air as he spoke bitterly.

Dean didn't look at him.

"It's his son." He answered in a defeated tone.

"Is it? You are the one who takes Castiel for a stroll every day, the one he runs to every time he has a nightmare, you are the guy this kid trusts the most in the entire world! You named him for God's sake!" Ron said sounding outraged.

"…" Dean didn't know what to say. Didn't know what to do.

"Winchester, you are Harry's family. My mom may be his mother at heart and I his brother and Hermione his almost sister… But it's you he trusts the most. It's you he loves and feared to lose for so long. Because he knows that there are some things only you can understand! I don't know the pain of losing a parent, to have him murdered before my eyes. You both share this. You both know what it is to carry the World on your shoulders. You are more his family than I'll ever be. And you are this child's family too, you can't just bail now and abandon them to this whole mess."

"Ron… I know I can't go. But I don't know how to stay. Not after all of this." Dean answered totally engrossed in his thoughts.

Ron went to him, put a hand on his shoulder and looked at him with a smile.

"Don't you worry, mate. Hermione will think of something."

To be Continued…


	22. A few conclusions

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione said as he opened his eyes, closing him again immediately against the excessive light that flooded the master suite. His head ached, as did his jaw and for a moment he asked himself what was Hermione doing in his room? Dean could be naked or something, he wasn't known for modesty inside the bedroom. Like the blow from the night before, his memories hit him, and with that a deep despair. He threw the covers to the side and ran to the third floor. His mind assailed with a mantra, 'Oh god, he took him, he took my child… He took my son away.' His hands trembled and he was out of breath as he opened the door.

Castiel was there, his angelic features disturbed by all the noise and the sight of his father. He laid there tense, his eyes fixed in the adult by the door.

Harry sighed, relieved to know his son was there. He crossed the room and unceremoniously he took the boy n his arms and hugged him. Hugged him to appease his doubts, to calm his fears, to feel his baby boy.

Castiel on his turn, taken by surprise, screamed and thrashed and growled as if Harry was killing him.

Dean's voice came before he walked into the room.

"Cas!" He called, and when he got to the door he froze, the boy thrashed even harder to get away from Harry, his eyes pleading, his arms out-stretched in Dean's direction.

Dean couldn't move for a moment. It took a second for his heart to brake and for him to decide. It was instinct really. He couldn't look at that child and let him in that much distress. He crossed the room and took Castiel from Harry's arms. The boy hugged him and sobbed. For the first time since he got to that house, since he met with his father, that was the first time he cried. He cried in Dean's shoulder scared to death. Dean hugged him, rubbing his back and the back of his head gently.

"It's ok. It's ok, Cas. I'm here. I'm here for you."

Harry glared death at him. His eyes were bitter and his voice was a scream.

"He is MY SON!"

Dean didn't move. Hermione came to the door and begged.

"Harry, come. Please. Come with me. Dean won't take your boy. Right, Dean?"

She had her hand offered in her friend's direction and that was when Ron finally made it to the room, out of breath.

Dean only nodded, holding the boy but his heart was broken.

He knew it was over.

To be Continued…


	23. A Hunter is Always a Hunter

Harry paced the dining room anxiously waiting for Dean to come down. Ron and Hermione sat at the table in a somber mood. They knew that his friend's life had gone to hell, again, and that this time no one was to blame but himself and his stubborn lover… Oh, and Ginny. If Ron had the chance he would kill her again… Just for the fun. She had destroyed Harry's happiness in the end. She had made it. In the end… She was winning.

Dean walked into the room in a tense manner, as if ready for anything. Harry focused his green eyes in Dean's and the venom, hurt and bitterness there hurt Dean more than the Cruciatus Curse. He looked at the floor, not bearing that look.

"He is sleeping." He said, quietly.

"Dean, we have to talk." Harry said and Dean only nodded. He didn't mention to Harry that the boy had only slept when Dean had taken him to his own room.

The hunter sat at the table and put up both his feet, far from Ron and Hermione, further from Harry, just as he felt at the moment. His feet at the table were just a message. I won't play by your rules it said. I won't play by anybodies rules but mine.

"Talk." He said to Harry Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World, for this was not his Harry. His Harry was kind and understanding and would never mind fuck a kid.

"Dean, I'm asking you to understand my point. He has suffered too much. He will never be a normal boy as long as he remember." He said, trying his best to sound convincing. It mattered so much to him. To see his boy smile at him.

"Harry…" Hermione said. "The boy will end up in St. Mungus. Obliviation of long periods worth memories cause brain damage. There are many studies on it. You've seen it already. Why risk it?" She tried again, being as rational as she could.

He raised a hand in her direction for silence.

"I'm not talking to you, Hermione." Harry said, coldly.

"Harry, you know me. You'll only do that over my dead body. But you already made crystal clear that it won't be a problem to you, right?" He touched his face, half of it was still swollen and a mangled. The night before, Hermione had spent at least an hour mending the bones on his face. It pained Harry for a moment. Dean was all black and blue and it was HIS fault. He pushed that thought away. He had to focus on his son.

"Dean, I respect you a lot…" Harry was trying to say but Dean snorted and laughed.

"I see how much you respect me." He said, sarcastic.

"I do. If I didn't, I wouldn't be talking to you about this."

Dean took his feet from the table and looked deep into the wizard's eyes, to better drive home his point.

"Harry, all of your friends are telling you this is a rotten idea. I am telling you this is a rotten idea. Why is it so hard to trust us in this? It feels like the Apocalypse all over again, you know? I told Sammy a thousand times to kill that bitch demon. I told him not to use his damned demon powers no matter what. Did he listen to me? NO! And we almost destroyed the world!" He paused. "I'm usually right about this kind of shit. I'm begging you not to do this."

"Dean, I'm explaining this to you because I respect you, because I love you. But you don't have a say in how I raise my boy. It is MY son, we are talking about." Harry said, this time cold as a snow storm in Canada.

"Don't lecture me about love. Love has nothing to do with this. This is about you being selfish. About you being jealous that your kid likes me. All this bullshit about him suffering too much? It's just that, bull. You want him to love you and his memory in getting in the way. So you want to off it. The bonus here is that when you wipe his memory he will forget me too and he will be all yours." Dean explained, bitterly, and Harry knew in his heart Dean was telling the truth. He was jealous. And bitter, and in pain. And he knew he would lose himself forever if he didn't get his boy.

"Dean… I need him." Harry said in a whisper, begging. He was breaking, he couldn't play this game anymore.

"Not this way, baby." Dean said, his insides churning in face of Harry's pain. His love for this man was and had always been one of his biggest weaknesses.

"What do I do then? Beg him to love me, to give me a chance? He will never want me, Dean… Not when he has you. Not when he has you." Harry told Dean in his shame, jealousy and mostly… Lost in despair. His tears were hot in his eyes his voice a whimper. Dean looked at Harry and knew he wasn't strong enough, not to hurt Harry like that. He took a deep breath. Dean Winchester is naturally a creature of sacrifice. That's what he does best. And his mind worked its way to a solution. Because, even after everything, he still loved Harry, loved Harry too much for his own good.

"Harry…" He took another deep breath, thinking over what he was doing. "If you want him so bad… If you really love him so much… I'll leave him… for you. I'll go back to the States, and I'll never bother you again. But you have to promise. No magic. No screwing up his mind. No hurting him anymore. You will do it the hard way, but he will be yours. Only yours." By the end of his speech, Dean's tears were running down his face. He was losing his love and his surrogate son. All at once. He was alone again. But that was what he did best. Cleaning up other people's messes. That was who he was. He rose to his feet and touched Harry's face, softly, gently, bth standing by the table, lost in their own world, Ron and Hermione feeling total intruders to the conversation. Harry felt even guiltier of having hurt Dean so, for his lovers fingers were almost reverent. The hunter kissed his wizard one last time. There was no passion in it, only desperation and a love so unconditional that Harry had to shiver, his whole body knowing how much that man was giving up for him.

"But if you do this, it's a deal. Like a deal for your soul. It's forever and it's unchangeable. You'll never be able to hurt that kid. And if you do… So help me God, I'm gonna find you, and I'm gonna kill you."

To be Continued…


	24. Angels are Watching Over You

That same night Harry said his yes, and Dean felt as if someone was carving his heart out. Even though his duffles were packed, he decided not leave the following morning but the one after that. He needed to say goodbye to Cas, and Harry understood. He didn't try to touch Harry a single time after his answer. He didn't have the right anymore. They were over.

Ron and Hermione were still there and Hermione tried to tell him about the Unbreakable Vow, that Harry could take it to protect the child. Dean shook his head, his smile as phony as a six dollars bill. He had his ways he had said, and Hermione knew that it was true and that few people really gave Dean Winchester the credit he deserved.

Castiel was still in Dean's room. He had slept there the morning Harry had invaded his room and hadn't left since. The day before Dean had to go, he spent with the boy. Like they were both kids, they played in the dungeons, in the gardens and in the library. They ran around the house playing soccer, and made a huge tickling war that not even Ishmael was able to run from. Cas that generally wasn't the touching type, let go of his prejudices for a day, like he sensed something was going on and rolled with Dean in the grass as they played hide-and-seek. That day, there was no Harry at lunch, and they ate hamburgers and French fries with catchup as if they were at a dinner in the States. Ishmael had gone all the way there to pick it up so as to make sure they tasted right.

In the afternoon, Dean showed Cas what a gun was, and what it did. He showed the youngling what a knife was too and the basics to using it. He taught him about salt and about devil's traps and monsters… He told Cas to never believe a demon, and to be happy. That night he told the boy to trust Harry and to take care of him. That he was his dad and that he was a good person and that he loved him. He told Cas that the person who had hurt him all those times was his evil twin and explained what that meant. Castiel listened, silently, and Dean told him to be good to his dad for he was suffering a lot without his love. When Castiel tilted his head to the side, Dean tried his best to explain.

"Love is like liking but a thousand times stronger. It means to care very deeply for the person you love, is to want this person's happiness more than your own." He said, and hugged the kid to his chest, his heart in pain. "Even if you don't know what it means, try to give a bit of it to your dad, because I won't be here to give it to him and to you. No matter what happens; no matter if I leave and never come back, I'll never stop loving you or your dad, ok? Promise you won't forget."

The kid grew very still in his arms hugging him as if he would disappear.

"Dean, love you." The boy said, his voice cracked for lack of use. Dean's heart was flooded with warmth and a bitter-sweet happiness. Maybe it was going to turn out ok. Maybe.

"Me too, baby. Me too."

Dean put him to bed, kissed his forehead just as his mother did to him and just as he used to do when Sammy was little.

"Sleep now. You are safe. Angels are watching over you." The hunter said, turned off the lights.

 

To be Continued…


	25. Of Godfathers...

His duffles were ready to go, and Cas was asleep. 

Dean was at the kitchen trying to find something strong enough to drink and put him to sleep. He hadn't seen Harry for the whole day and kept thinking about him when he laid in bed alone in the dark. He guessed it was for the best. If he knew where Harry was he would probably try to say goodbye and would end up making a fool out of himself. He had to face the truth that it was over. That Harry didn't care anymore, and that from now on, it was just him and the Impala again. He sighed at that.

He felt a familiar prickling at the back of his neck. He knew there was someone standing behind him.

"You sure you want to do this?" Said the rough voice he hadn't heard in awhile but one that he had waited to hear since Harry said Yes. He felt a sense of déjà vu as that sentence ran in his mind.

"Yeah." Dean said, turning to look at Castiel's eyes. But these eyes were Jimmy Novak's blue ones instead of Lily Potter's greens and this Castiel wasn't his boy, but the Angel of the Lord. Cas had in hand a pair of glasses and a bottle of Johnny Walker's Blue Label.

"Thought you could use something special, tonight." The angel said trying for empathy and failing as always. Dean appreciated the thought, though.

"As long as you keep an eye on that boy, I'm good." Dean answered accepting the glass nonetheless. He filled it to the top and drank it all in one go.

"He will never come to harm." Was the solemn promise he heard from his old friend.

"Good." Dean answered, pouring himself another round and this time filling the angel's glass as well.

"Dean… I should better go." Castiel said.

"But you just got here!" Before Dean could finish the sentence Cas was already gone and it pissed Dean off for a moment. He had for a moment felt relieved he wasn't going to drink alone on that shitty fucked up night.

"Who was him? How did he get in?" Harry asked entering the kitchen and leaning to the sink, his arms crossed in front of his chest. He didn't seem happy to have had a stranger in his house when it was unplottable and warded. Harry was highly paranoid those days.

"You are not the only one to have friends in high places." Dean said drinking his whiskey more slowly this time. 'Such a good whiskey wasn't made to gulp it down right?' He thought to himself.

"Looks like my drinking buddy left me anyway. Let's not waste it, have a drink." The hunter said offering the wizard the untouched glass and Harry felt like that day so long ago when he first encountered Dean and he was drunk and he took care of Rabastan Lestrange with a headshot. He sipped his whiskey and it felt bitter in his tongue just like that memory.

Dean drank a bit more and the awkward silence fell. It didn't stop both of them of drinking glass after glass from the liquid in blue labeled bottle. Soon they moved on to the Old Ogden's bottle Harry had stashed under the sink. He had meant to take it to Sam when the trip was over, like he had promised Dean. He guessed it would have to come to better use, he had thought to himself.

"Dean, I came here to… To ask you to… keep the bar. Mac's bar, I mean." Harry said, remembering he had, actually, something important to say.

"There is no way in hell I'll go back to that place." Dean said, immediately.

"I want you to have something for yourself, Dean. Keep the apartment too. It is your home, after all." Harry said, they were both way too drunk to stop themselves from saying anything they shouldn't. Sane thoughts and thought out decisions were left a whole bottle back.

"I don't have a home anymore. And I don't want your… money." Dean spit the word like a curse. "I'm not some gold-digging bitch that sucked your dick for money. I'm not one of your whores."

"Never said you were." Harry said, a bit soberer by the verbal attack.

"You didn't. But I'm the bastard who stole your kid, right?" Dean continued his tirade. "You hate me."

"I don't." Harry said, his heart painnig him as if he had been stabbed.

"I wish you would make up your mind." Dean answered, angry, trying to get to his feet but the world spun around him and he was falling. Harry caught him, and soon they were face to face, their drunken breath mingling under their noses that were almost brushing each other in an Eskimo's kiss. Their eyes met. And Harry was too drunk to stop his own words.

"Fuck me one last time?" He asked and he knew he had reached the rocky bottom. Pleading for his ex to do him. But he still loved Dean so. He didn't have much time to dwell on it, though, for Dean was kissing him already, desperately.

His man tasted like Old Ogden's, Blue Label, and rebellion. Dean tasted of righteousness, freedom and familiarity. He tasted of home, of Boston, of frozen lakes and hockey. He tasted like every good memory in Harry's life. Dean tasted of Love.

Before long they were breathing heavily, and Harry was clawing his clothes off as the hunter pulled him up on the kitchen table and Harry remembered their first time on the bar's table. They were already shirtless and Harry thanked Merlin for heating charms. Dean kissed and bit his neck, and collarbone, and chest leaving a trail of love bites that were already turning blue. Dean wanted to mark Harry, wanted him to remember him for as long as the marks lasted, at least. He kissed Harry with hunger and love and the desperation of goodbye. For there was no mistake, it was goodbye. At least, Sex he wouldn't screw up. He was glad he had the chance to do one right thing by Harry. He would treasure that moment forever in his mind. He just hoped the stupidly high amount of alcohol it had taken to get them there wouldn't wipe it off.

Harry squirmed under him, wanting him, his erection digging into his hip just as his did on Harry's hip. He took out Harry's pants and boxers in one move and ran his hands, then his tongue through Harry's feet, his calves, the underside of his knees, the inside of his thighs, up to his sex, which he engulfed in the heat of his mouth and sucked with gusto. Harry accioed the lube from upstairs, but Dean wouldn't have it. He sucked Harry until he couldn't take it anymore and came spilling himself in Dean's awating mouth. Spiting it in his hand, he used Harry's come to ease his fingers into him. One finger, two, three… It was fast and he kept brushing his prostate. Dean knew his body like he knew his favorite gun and Harry was felling like a boy, as he felt his sex stir again, how long it's been since he had recuperated so fast? Dean finger-fucked him with a hand and pumped his half hard sex into waking with the other. It felt amazing and Harry could almost forget it was their last time. He sat himself as best as he could without disturbing the motions and threw his arms around Dean's neck holding him as if he could make him stay.

"Fuck me, Dean. Fuck me now."

Dean complied in one hard thrust, that left Harry without air. He was in such a pain, but it also felt incredible. When he thought about demanding movement from Dean, he was already moving, and pounding into him, hard and fast and territorial, making him moan and beg and scream with the pleasure/pain. He loved Dean Winchester, he knew that and he held him, held him as if that could keep him there, as the man he loved screwed the lights out of him.

They both came together in a frenzy of sex, bites and desperate need. Their voices as one screamed their pleasure. Dean fell on top of Harry and he couldn't quite move. Not only for his tiredness, but he wanted to commit to memory the feeling of being over Harry, of being inside him, the smell of musk and potions and whiskey that clang to Harry at that moment. Harry had his eyes closed, probably out of it, and Dean remembered why he thought Harry was so handsome. His face and lips were perfect and Dean felt his heart constrict at the thought that that was the last time.

"Oh, fuck." Dean said and sighed, looking at the sleeping face, holding the sleeping man as if he could keep him. "I fucking love you, Harry Potter." He said, letting himself be taken to Sandman's realm.

Harry woke on his own bed, alone and cold. For a moment he wondered if it had been a dream, but that thought soon was dispelled by the pain in his body. His arse burned, but he didn't mind, on contrary, he was happy that it was hurting. It was proof that last night wasn't a dream. That Dean's words were true. It had been the first time Dean had, actually, said the words.

'I fucking love you, Harry Potter.'

They stabbed at him and he swore at himself he wasn't going to cry like the big girl he was. That thought made him think of Dean again and it hurt so much a tear slipped from his eyes, he touched the bite marks on his neck and chest lovingly, in remembrance, but cleaned the tear quickly. He decided he had to focus on something else. He had asked him to leave. He was alone and cold because of his own doing.

He got up and went to Castiel's room.

The boy wasn't there and for a moment his blood ran cold.

"He didn't take him." A strange voice that sounded slightly familiar sounded behind him. He turned to see a man of the bluest eyes he had ever seen look back at him. He was older than him for a few years but Harry felt something was off with him.

"Dean is a man of his word. The boy is in his old room." The man said, cold and detached, he wore a tan trench-coat and had black hair.

"Who are you?" Harry asked.

"You can call me Insurance. Dean called me the boy's godfather. It doesn't really matter." The man answered. "Just so you know. I'm always watching. Forever watching and I'll know if you slip."

And he was gone. The strange man disappeared just as he arrived without a sound as if he was a hallucination. Harry decided that he didn't care if there was someone watching. He also decided that with Dean gone, he was to take care of his boy. He went to Dean's guest room and Castiel was sleeping, his face angel-like.

He went down and prepared breakfast for him and Cas. Ishmael was already up but his huge eyes were red, as if he had not slept well. He helped Harry in the kitchen as they both heard the boy's small feet climbing down the stairs. More like galloping down the stairs.

As he appeared in the kitchen's door he had a huge knife in his hand. Harry, at a second look, saw that it was Dean's favorite knife. The one he had slept with under his pillow.

"Morning." The boy said, and Harry's eyes were bigger than Ishmael's.

"You…" Harry said but the words didn't come out.

"I talk, dad." It was too good to be true. His boy was talking, talking to him! He called him Dad! Harry was so happy he felt as if his magic would automatically burst into a Patronus.

"Oh, boy, my boy, my son!" Harry was saying and Castiel tensed as he came closer to him. He pointed the knife at Harry who stopped immediately.

"I-I…" The boy started, very shy and still a bit unsure of what to do, how to act. "I try be good boy. Dean ask me."

"I'm happy with that, son. I'm really happy with that." Harry said, smiling. He kneeled and opened his arms for a hug, maybe he was lucky he thought to himself, and though the boy had to take a deep breath and steel his courage, he left the knife fall to the floor and awkwardly hugged his father.

Harry's happiness was such that he burst into happy tears silently thanking Dean Winchester.

 

To be Continued…


	26. "And the years go by so fast..."

The years went by, one by one, with birthdays and Christmases and family dinners. With Grandma Molly, whose hair was turning to white, with Grandpa Arthur who almost had no hair at all, with bushy golden-haired Aunt Hermione (he liked her hair so much) and flame haired Uncles Ron, Bill, Charlie, Percy and George. There was blond haired Aunt Luna who was always nice to him and black haired Uncle Neville who taught him how to grow nice plants in the mansion's garden, close to his dad's potion's plants. Ted, was also there in those years, always with him like a big brother. He came to live with them when Grandma Andy went to heaven three years before. She was really nice, with all that long black hair that never got grey, and Castiel was sorry when she died. He understood death, different from his other cousins that were the same age as him, he understood death. For some time, when he was younger, when he was in the dark with all the shit and the pain, he had wanted to die. Wanted it all to go away. His dad hated when he used ugly words or talked about dying but when he talked of that place no nice words could be used.

He was glad he didn't, though. Die, he meant. He was glad he lived to meet Dean, to know his family, to know his dad, who had eyes and hair just the same as him. He was still frightened of him sometimes when he got really angry, but most of the time he was ok. Most of the time. Sometimes he would grow really quiet and really sad, and Castiel thought he was going to cry at any moment. He had grown to love his dad with the years and it also made him sad to seem him so, but so sad. But his dad, like Dean, was a strong man, and men didn't cry like silly girls. Victoire, his cousin who had long blond hair just like Aunt Fleur's, was always crying. Castiel was proud not to cry. He was stronger than any of his cousins and he knew that what they called pain was nothing compared to what he knew of pain. He kept the memories of that place as treasures. To remind him how blessed he was to have escaped and lived through the time he spent in that place, to have met everyone, to have met Dean who taught him to be a good boy and to take care of his dad. He wanted so much to do something for his dad… Dean had said that he had to take care of him when he was not around and he had been trying to do so for all these years.

After Dean left, he started private tutoring with Aunt Hermione, who taught him how to read and write English and Latin and how to speak both the right way. He was very dedicated to his studies. He knew he could be really powerful if he learned all there was to know about magic, and that he could be a great auror someday and protect people. Like Ted's mom, or his own dad on the golden days. He would grow up and make sure no one suffered. Like Dean did to him. Besides that, he knew he could find Dean after he learned how to do magic.

His dad was in one of his sad mood those days and for the first time he asked Ted what the problem was. Ted was 19 years-old and was in his first year of auror training, he should understand those things. His dad was 35 five, and he was 10. It's been five years since he last saw Dean in the best day of his life. The day they played and talked and that he learned how to use the knife. His dad didn't know, but every night he trained with it. He had to know how to defend himself. He couldn't let the Angels do all the work. For he knew, angels were watching over him.

When he asked Ted why was it that his father was so sad, his brother said that it was because he was an idiot. Ted rarely said bad things about dad, he was his hero, just like Dean was his, so he asked how he could say something like that.

"Cas, your dad is a very good man. But he didn't make the best decisions when it came to love." Ted said. With time his eyes had grown whiskey colored like his werewolf-dad's eyes, and his hair changed according to his mood, like his auror-mom's hair. He usually kept it brown, brown meant he was ok. It was gray that day, which meant he wasn't. Ok, Cas meant.

"Love? Like liking someone so much you want them to be happy?" Cas asked, he remembered everything Dean had ever taught him.

"Who told you that?" Teddy asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Dean."

"You still miss him?" He asked and sat on Castiel's bed, the same bed that had been Dean's in that guest room so long ago. Castiel looked at him as if the question was outright silly and Ted looked apologetic for asking. He took a deep breath and continued.

"If you really want to know… Your father is like that because he also misses Dean." Ted said.

"Why doesn't he floo him? Why not visit? Why not apparate there? He would be able to find him!" Cas asked growing restless, he wanted so badly to see Dean again, he did not understand.

"Because they fought long ago, and that is why Dean had to leave."

"Dad needs Dean. I need Dean." The boy said, his voice trembling in anger at this whole silly thing. For him, staying away from Dean because of something like a fight was REALLY stupid. The whole room seemed to tremble with his voice, his toys falling from its shelves.

"…" Ted didn't know how to answer that, especially in face of such a display of power, his surrogate brother often scared him that way and he didn't even had a wand yet.

"Teddy, you are going to be an auror, you need to help me!" He sounded desperate and Ted asked by reflex.

"What do you need?"

"I need to bring Dean back."

 

To be Continued…


	27. Royally Screwed

Ted knew he was royally screwed.

He knew his godfather, Harry Potter, like the back of his hand, and knowing him he knew he was as good as dead.

He knew the most important thing in Harry Potter's life was his son, Castiel Severus Potter and he knew his godfather would freak out if Cas was to disappear. Ted still remembered the day he had taken the boy to the park and forgot to tell Harry. Harry seemed like he was possessed, he had already called everyone they knew to start searching and they had been gone only for an hour. He still remembered the long unending lecture about a child's safety, about being an irresponsible kid that should know better than to go out with other people's kids and not leave a note or anything. Harry's eyes had been feverish and a bit scary. That day Ted found the answers for many of the questions he had harbored through the years, as to why Harry drove Dean away and why Harry never let Hermione take Cas to a child's psychologist as she had wanted.

When it came to Cas, Harry Potter was totally and utterly paranoid.

He never felt at ease. He never trusted anyone with the boy. He never took him to a psychologist because he was afraid the man would turn the boy against him, he asked Hermione to give Cas private tutoring because he didn't trust school teachers. Ted was just waiting to see what Harry was going to do when Cas got his Hogwarts Letter, but he didn't believe he would live to see that as circumstances went.

He was in the Ministry of Magic, in line with Castiel to use the International Floo Network to Washington. And that was just how screwed he was.

Cas had batted that pair of puppy-dog eyes at him, asking him to help him find Dean and there they were, crossing the Atlantic with no idea as to where to find a traveling, homeless hunter in a country that big.

He was, indeed, royally screwed.

 

To be Continued…


	28. Chapter 28

Sam watched from the kitchen as his brother played with his nephew. Johnny was already five years old. Time had gone by so fast, and it felt like just yesterday that Johnny was still a bundle laughing mirth in his arms.

Dean played with the boy and rolled in the grass and laughed, but Sam knew his brother. Knew how much it took from him to drop by and play with Johnny. Dean rarely came these days and when he did, even if he laughed and played it sounded fake, a poor shadow of what it was when Harry was around. When he wasn't visiting, he would spend every second he could hunting. He would call, now and then, to let them know he was alive but Sam was always worried and by default, so was Jane. She didn't know Dean very well, but she knew Sam. And Sam would be devastated if older dunderheaded Winchester died. There were too few of them already. She hated Dean sometimes, especially when he called from a hospital, Sam wouldn't sleep for the rest of the week until he heard big bro Winchester ok. She loved though when Dean visited because he was safe, and Johnny loved his uncle and Sam seemed so much happier when he was around. It was hard to be a Winchester Wife, and know that around the corner evil, hurt and death were just waiting to get a grip of her family. She shook herself, passed Sam by the porch and went to the playing dynamic duo in the backyard.

"Johnny, come on, you have to clean yourself, finish your homework and let uncle Dean rest for bit."

"But, mom!"

"No 'buts', straight to the shower." She pointed inside the house and Johnny obeyed knowing better than to irritate his mother. Jane was a pretty tough mom.

Sam came to where Dean sat in the grass and sat himself as well. Dean's eyes had a kind of sorrow Sam couldn't quite put a finger on and it had been there ever since he had been back from England.

"Dean, mind telling me what happened there?" He insisted. It's been five years, and they were still trying to have this conversation. Dean still said no word about his brake up with Harry.

"Don't know what you are talking about." Dean answered.

"Look, I know it must hurt, but… It's been five years. You were never the same after England. What happened there? Talk to me, man, maybe it will help." Sam asked earnestly. He wouldn't let go, not this time.

"Nothing worth a tale."

"Dean, we are your family. Ever since you came back, you… You throw yourself in every risky hunt there is out there. Your moves are close to suicidal. You seem like you don't give a shit! What happened to you?" Sam looked at his brother but Dean wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Harry asked me go…" His eyes seemed to be decorating the grass patterns as if he had to know them to decode an alarm.

"Dean…" Sam's eyes softened at the hurt look that words brought to Dean's face.

"He has a son to take care of now. His bitch of an ex-wife was hiding his son and when he finally found him… I was getting in the way." He said.

Sam looked at him. His brother didn't look back but that explained a lot. A kid. It explained why Dean seemed so nostalgic when he looked at Johnny from a distance. His brother was very good with kids, there was no way he would get in the way. Something had gone really wrong, he supposed. For a moment, he wanted to reach out for his brother and comfort him, he wanted ask what went wrong, he wanted to kick Harry's teeth in, he wanted to do something, anything but he knew Dean wouldn't allow.

"It's water under the bridge, Sam. It's past. I have to think about now. Tomorrow I'll start south, Bobby said there may be a case in Denver."

"Take care of yourself." He held his brother's fore arm to make his point. He wasn't sure it worked.

"Will do."

 

To be Continued…


	29. Back to the Start...

Ted knew Dean wouldn't be there. Ted knew he wouldn't go back there after all Harry did to him. But that was his only lead, Boston. More specifically, Mac's Canadien Bar. They apparated in the alley behind it and as he looked at the closed up bar he was reminded of that summer he spent with Harry and Dean there. He smiled to himself, nostalgic.

"What is this place?" Cas asked looking through the dirty glasses in the front doors trying to see inside. "This is you father's bar."

"Come again? Dad, has a bar? No way! He is not cool like that!" Cas said laughing.

"He closed it when he went to live in England again, when he went to pick you up. The plan was to bring you here to live with them but it never worked out." Ted said, remembering those times, it broke his heart to remember all that.

"Them?"

"Your father and Dean… Well, they weren't just friends if you know what I mean." Ted tried explaining.

"Dad has been avoiding the birds and bees but Uncle George took care of it. Said that sometimes bees liked other bees and birds liked other birds… Something about the modern world."

"Yes, something down that lane." Ted commented and thought about George giving that speech… Scary.

"This place is so cool… Look at the hockey sticks and the flags! Dad is always watching hockey but never took me to play…" Castiel had both hands in the dirty glass window trying hard to see the decoration inside.

"He is afraid his little princess will shatter!" Ted said laughing at the younger boy.

"Princess, huh?" Cas charged playfully at Ted in the middle of the street, climbing on his back. They were laughing and joking loudly.

Across the street a dark haired man in a tan trench coat watched as they played. Ted looked at him but as a bus cut his line of view he concluded he was starting to see things for the man seemed to have vanished or apparated in the middle of the sidewalk in front of everyone, something no wizard would do.

"You know where we can find Dean? Is there some tracking charm we can use?" Castiel asked, really excited about Dean Hunting.

"I'm just in the beginning of auror training, learned nothing of the like yet… Maybe we can find a clue at the old apartment." Ted said.

"Alohomora", Ted whispered, touching the doorknob with his wand. The apartment door, opened with a creek. It sounded as if it had been years since it had been opened. Maybe it was… At least, five years.

Ted entered first, quietly, followed closely by Castiel. The place was pecked with dust. There was an old sofa in the living room, and the sun filtered through the dirt windows falling exactly on it, the dust their mere presence lifted floating in the sun rays. It was around ten in the morning. They looked at the pictures in the coffee table and Cas had to hold his tears as he looked to the pictures. Dean and Dad seemed so happy. It was 5 years since he had last seen Dean, he didn't have any photos, and he could almost cry just to confirm that he still remembered Dean correctly. But he wouldn't cry, he was stronger than that, he kept repeating it in his head. He picked the frames up and put all the pictures in his bag. A duffle that looked like Dean's.

The master room was dark and had a king-sized bed in the middle. It was small compared to the one Dad had back at Grimmuald Place. They opened the wardrobes which still had loads of clothes, hockey skates, sticks…

They heard a click, that sounded a lot like the safety of a gun being pulled and froze. Ted turned to look into a shiny Colt 1911 with ivory handles.

The eyes beyond the gun were a furious green that faltered when their stares crossed.

"Ted?" The low voice choked out and the gun was lowered from his face. Dean was pale, looking into the whiskey colored eyes of one Theodore Remus Lupin.

The ten-year-old boy beside Ted, turned to him and Dean saw the unmistakable eyes of Lily Potter with the unmistakable hair of James Potter.

Dean fell to one knee. No word escaping his lips as he reached a trembling hand to the kid's face and hair. His hand feeling solid skin and soft hair under his fingers.

"Cas… You're so big…" He said, he didn't know much else to say, he couldn't say more or he would fall into unmanly tears right there in front of the kid. Castiel leaned into the touch, unsure if he wasn't dreaming again that he had found Dean. He wanted to be held by Dean, just to make sure. He never wanted a hug so badly in his life. So he threw all care to the wind and hugged the man.

"I missed you so much." The boy whispered.

"Me too, baby, me too." Dean answered hugging back for the life of him, his tears evading all control.

To be Continued…


	30. Home Sweet Home...

"You know this is all going to hell, don't you?" Dean asked tiredly in Bobby's porch. Ted had apparated them all back to the Salvage Yard where Dean made his temporary base when he wasn't hunting which was a rare occurrence.

"I know. I'm royally screwed." Ted said looking into the beautiful sunset. Dean smiled at that.

"It's me he is going to be mad with. I thought you had grown up enough to know that, Ted."

Ted shook his head slowly. "Sorry about that. I just couldn't say no." He said as if Dean could understand and he actually did, how hard it was to say no to Castiel.

"I know. Never could say no to his dad either. I think it's in his genes."

Ted nodded this time, and the sound of Cas incessant talking approaching pulled them from their conversation. Bobby and the kid came to the porch with a cold bear to each adult (or almost adult in Ted's case) and a coke to Cas.

"Thought you said he didn't talk." Bobby said in fake annoyance from his chair and Cas felt a bit hurt. He ruffled the kid's hair to make him understand the joke.

"He didn't when I left." Dean smiled, proudly, and Cas was so happy. "Did you call Sam?" Dean asked.

"Will be here in a day or two. He wouldn't want to miss this in a million years." Bobby said. It felt weird to know this grandson of his, he was so different from Johnny. Johnny had a father and a mother and loved his uncle Dean and his uncle Bobby. Castiel was nice kid, but sometimes had shadows in his eyes that had no business in a kid's stare. And though he loved Dean like his dad, Dean wasn't his blood. The Winchesters weren't Bobby's blood either but were his sons, he could relate to this kid's feelings. Castiel was Dean's son and thus his grandson. What a fucked up Happy Family they made. Bobby could just imagine how it was going to be when Potter arrived. And he was relieved that Sam was coming to make what they thought of him clear for Bobby was too old for that. Too old to give that son of a bitch the beating he deserved for robbing Dean of that smile he was wearing ever since those boys arrived. It's been five years since he had smiled like that. Since he had stopped long enough for a cold bear at sunset. It's been five years of non-stop hunting. Of unending new scars, and near-death experiences. Too many for his old heart and Sam's young one. Poor Jane was always waiting for the bad news of Dean's death, for she had to be prepared to hold on to Sam. Maybe they wouldn't need to worry anymore.

Forget that, Bobby thought to himself, he knew it for what it was…

Wishful thinking.

To be Continued…


	31. All about Etiquette

When Jane and Sam arrived with Johnny it all seemed to be a great family reunion. Johnny loved to know he had a cousin, and followed Castiel around like a shadow as they played in the Salvage Yard. Dean's smile was like pure light. Sam was happy and really enjoyed to know Castiel and Ted. Ted was a discrete presence around the house. He looked out for the boys, he talked with the adults, he fit just in with anyone, for he was a good kid too. Harry Potter knew how to bring up kids, even if he sucked with grown ups…

Even Castiel, Angel of the Lord, dropped by to say 'hello' in their little reunion, and Dean presented Cas to Cas and explained that Cas was an Angel of the Lord and his Godfather. Castiel, Angel of the Lord, was a bit uncomfortable but Castiel, the boy, knew what it was like to be awkward with people and didn't push him. Soon they were talking quietly in a way that nobody else seemed to feel comfortable with. From Cas to Cas.

Castiel, the boy, was cativating. Unique. Special. And Ted reminded Dean a lot of himself when he was younger taking care of Sam, even if he kept his hair blue these days. Dean didn't know but blue meant bliss. Ted was happy. Ted loved to spend time with them. With so many different people that seemed so close to him, as close as family, he missed his Grandma so much in that time… She would have loved to meet Bobby and the others.

They were having Ted-made British Tea, Earl Grey, when he arrived. The door was shoved open and he disregarded all sense of etiquette, marching over to the kitchen, locking his sight on Dean and going straight for him.

"Where is my son?! Where did you hide him?" Harry Potter screamed at the top of his lungs. Dean's smile went out like a spotlight at the end of rock'n roll concert.

The soft "Harry…" was all that left the hunter's mouth. Green eyes locked into green. Not even noticing Sam and Bobby's glare, nor Jane's wide eyes, nor Ted's apprehensive ones. Castiel, the Angel, just tilted his head. Johnny hid behind his dad.

"Harry, it's not his fault!" Ted dared to say. He couldn't let Dean take the blame.

"You keep your mouth shut, for yours is yet to come, young man." He told Ted with venom, and turned back to Dean, still furious.

"How could you do that?"

"Dad, stop it." Castiel asked.

"To cover up for them, I spent the whole week looking for them!" Harry ranted on.

"Dad…" Cas tried again.

"I was already thinking they were dead!" The older wizard was still screaming.

"DAD!" Castiel shouted and a small shockwave ran through every thing and everyone. All mugs were knocked off on the table and a gust of wind ran through every person in the room. All turned astounded eyes to the kid. There was a long pause. Johnny started to cry not understanding what was happening, why was everyone shouting. Jane was still shocked, but her instincts were stronger and she picked the little boy up and took him inside, murmuring a simple "excuse me."

"Are you listening to me now?" Castiel asked his father, who blushed a bit and nodded. "Dad, what is going on with you?" The boy said a bit irritated.

"I…" Harry tried to make up an excuse for his behavior, but he could find none but the fact that he didn't have the courage to face Dean with a clear mind and jumped head first in a sea of anger.

"Dad, why are disrespecting everyone here? We are just having tea, and you come here, to somebody else's house, enter without being invited in and shout at your host. I may be a child yet, but Aunt 'Mione would have me grounded for a year for that." His son argued in a tone that reminded Harry a lot of Hermione and he blushed even harder. That was when he noticed Bobby's and Sam's glare.

"Right. I… I'm sorry." He said to all of them, trying to mend things. His son was right, he was being an arse. "Bobby, it wasn't my intention to…" He stuttered for words and Bobby's glare deepened at him.

"It's Mr. Singer to you, Potter." Bobby said and turned his chair to exit the room. Harry turned his eyes to Sam then, he couldn't look at Dean, or he would crumble. He had longed for so long to see him again and when he did, he didn't have the guts to look at him. Fuck, he thought to himself. Dean mere presence was too much for him. He just wanted to abandon himself in the man's arms, drown in his musk… But he had to focus. Samuel Winchester was looking at him as if he wanted to do a salt-and-burn with him still alive.

"Sam, I'm sorry to disrupt your family reunion. I just…" He looked at Castiel, his son. "I was so worried."

Sam wanted to say a lot of things to this wizard. None of them were nice, but he respected Castiel and Ted. Castiel looked at his dad and he looked so sad.

"Dad, I'm sorry to make you worry. I made Ted bring me here so don't get mad with him either. I just…" He said at the man, his eyes innocent and contrite, Ted almost believed him, Harry didn't stand a chance. Dean, on the other hand, was astounded by how much alike they both were. "I really missed Dean." 'And I know you miss him too.' Said the boy's gaze to Harry's soul and the man couldn't hold his son's gaze.

Sam crouched, and touched Castiel on the shoulder. "Cas, don't you want to go and wait with Johnny and Uncle Bobby in the other room?" He needed to tell Harry Potter a few truths but he needed privacy for that.

Cas knew Uncle Sam was dropping a hint for him to leave the grown ups to talk. He knew his uncle was upset. He looked at his new uncle really serious, dead serious and said so that only Sam could hear it. "You better not screw this up."

Sam had never heard that tone from Cas, and it was low and menacing and promising real pain. He gave a nod. The boy went to the library. Ted followed him.

"You shouldn't have worried. I was watching over him." Said Castiel, the Angel of the Lord, who followed Ted out of the room.

"Dean, why don't you…" Sam started but Dean cut him half along the sentence.

"Not even the devil would move me from here."

Sam sighed.

"Ok then." He said and turned to Harry.

"Do you have any idea what you did to him?"

Harry looked at the floor.

"Do you know how many times I had to travel to some God forsaken Hospital halfway across the country to find him unconscious in a bed because of you?" He said accusingly.

"Let me tell you: TOO MANY. And each time I would know it was not the last one. You know why? Because some douche bag did such a number in him that he was damn-near suicidal. Because he never smiled like he used to again. Because it seemed he didn't care much for anything anymore. You want to know who did this? YOU did this. Do you want to know how many times I have wanted to kick your ass?" Sam asked, this time pausing enough for Harry to shake his head in negative.

"Every time I had to see him in a hospital bed. Every time his smile didn't reach his eyes."

"Sam…" Dean asked with a word for him to stop parading his shame.

"No, he has to know. Do you want to know why I'm not doing so right now? Kicking your ass, I mean." Harry just looked at him. "Because I don't want your kids to look at you in a hospital bed and feel what I felt. Because I like Cas and Ted and they love you. Because this guy here…" He pointed at Dean, "…made me promise I wouldn't. And he too loves you… Much more than you deserve. Asshole."

Sam said and he too left the room.

"Sorry about that." Dean said with an ironic smile that broke Harry's heart.

"He is right about that. I am an arse." He answered not looking at his ex-lover. He wasn't good with apologies and he didn't have the balls to look into Dean's eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Dean…" He said and before he could stop himself he had already looked at the man he still loved so. The eyes were there… Green as he remembered, and oh, so full of love. The smile that spread at the hunter's full lips spelled forgiveness and he felt even guiltier.

Dean took two steps and Harry was lost in the man's smell, in the feeling of his warmth, the strong arms enveloping Harry as if he was a child.

"Oh, Dean… Cas missed you so much… I missed you so fucking much." Harry said and the pain in his eyes as he looked up at Dean, in his voice as he spoke was that of desperate dying man.

"I'm here now." Dean said passing a hand through the side of Harry's face and hair and Harry buried his face in his chest, fisting Dean's shirt so that he could hold him if the gods tried to take his man away. He couldn't take anymore of that, five years of loneliness were enough to put anyone in line.

"Your brother is right… You shouldn't forgive me." Harry said, his guilt still biting at him, weighting in his chest. "I don't deserve it."

"Harry…" Dean whispered in his ear. "You and Cas are what is left of me. There is no me without you." He paused so that it would sink in. "I need you. Both of you. I… I love you."

Harry smiled at the irony.

"Me too, baby. Me too."

To be Continued…


	32. Of Nosy People, Love, Forgiveness and Family

"It's taking too long…" Sam commented in a low voice, leaning to the library door. "Can't hear a thing!"

"Shush… They are speaking." Castiel, the kid, whispered, his ear to the door just under Sam's.

"Dean is not going to like this." Castiel, the Angel, whispered from across the room, emotionless as always.

"10 bucks they will leave that room as newly weds." Bobby put the ten dollar bill on the table and Jane laughed. "Harry is stubborn. And he is pissed we ran away… You are on." Ted answered also listening in on his godfather and Dean leaning on the door like Cas and Sam. His hair was black and currently growing in length as he was nervous, his hair always fell in his eyes when he was nervous.

"Save your money, Ted. I bet we are staying…" Green eyed Castiel said with a smug smile.

"Want to die your friend, kid." Bobby laughed.

With all the talking they didn't even hear the door as Harry flung it open, and Ted fell on Cas, both falling at Dean's and Harry's feet, Dean's arm meaningfully holding Harry's waist to his own.

"Pay up, blue hair." Bobby said and from the floor Ted passed him ten bucks. Cas laughed.

"Should I say 'I told you so'?"

________________________________________

 

That day Harry laughed and had fun like he hadn't in years. Ted couldn't understand what happened, how all the bitterness was gone from his godfather and how Dean could act as none of what happened had indeed happened, as if all the pain and angry words weren't spoken. Sam was also baffled by their behavior, but he knew his brother's power to forgive. It took a few weeks for him and Sam to be back to brothers after he had abandoned them for 4 years. Dean had forgiven him after Ruby and the Apocalypse. Why wouldn't he forgive Harry? Ted, though, couldn't understand.

"What's up sport?" Dean asked, when he found Ted sitting on the stairs that led to Bobby's porch. He sat beside the boy waiting for an answer. Ted's hair was a tone of salmon changing to burgundy and then auburn like it couldn't quite settle for one color. Dean knew that couldn't be good and the young man had kept to himself every since he and Harry left the kitchen on each others arms.

Ted looked at Dean and there was so much doubt there, like all that didn't make sense to him.

"How?" Was all Ted managed to ask, but his whisky colored eyes and his hair said everything Dean had to know about that question.

"Ted… You are young and…"

"Don't pull that crap on me. I'm old enough to understand how much Harry hurt you… He was fucking unfair! How can you just…?" Ted turned to Dean, angry, wanting a straight answer.

"Ted, there is no one that gets me like he does. There is no one that understands me like he does. No one I have loved as much as I love him. No one else I would spend my life with." Dean explained.

"But… Don't you want to… I don't know, aren't you angry with him? Don't you want to make him suffer for what he did to you?" Ted asked still not understanding.

"Man, you wanna be an auror, right? Like your mom. Harry, told me your folks kicked the bucket, trying to save a bunch of people. So, being an auror is no walk in the park, right? It's a risky line of work, just like mine. Me or Harry… We are crazy sons of bitches who can't see innocent people in danger. We could die any moment. We lived through the worst hands fate has ever dealt anyone. We both had already died a couple of times. You really think I would like to waste more time? I don't know how long I have left. This can be my last chance, man. Being apart was torture enough. No need for more of that. We aren't masochists."

Dean didn't know, but Jane was there listening to his words, he had been lost in these guys history ever since the boys arrived but what Dean just said made a lot of sense to her. The Winchester men definitely understood a lot about loving someone.

 

_________________________________________

 

As Dean chatted with Ted by the porch, Harry had his arms full of Cas in the kitchen, he simply decided it was too long since he cooked anything or Dean and that it was time to remedy that. He had kicked Sam and Jane from the kitchen and Bobby and the Angel had been looking out for Cas and Johnny outside, but Castiel had just came back and hugged Harry's middle, hiding his face in his father's stomach.

"Dad… Are you still angry?" The boy asked. The question had been plaguing him every since his dad had made his peace with Dean.

"For what, exactly? Manipulating your older brother to bring you to America? Manipulating all the adults here not to tell on you? Or for making me cross the ocean after you as I thought you were dead or worse?" Harry asked the boy. Of course he was happy to have his family back, but his boy had to know that what he did wasn't right.

"All that." Castiel answered without looking at his dad. When he put it that way it didn't sound as noble as what he first had in mind.

"You know what I was most angry about? The fact that you didn't even right a note. You were all that I had in the world and you left without looking back. How do you think I felt? I thought someone had kidnapped you. Worse, I thought Dean had took you from me. If you weren't here to stop me… I could have said and done a lot of things I would regret for the rest of my life. I know now he would never do something like that, but you almost made me lose it." Harry explained to his boy.

"I'm so sorry, Daddy." Castiel said his guilt eating at him to the point of tears. "But I wanted so much to see Dean, and you were so sad and we didn't know how long it would take to find him and you are Harry Potter, we needed time…" Harry hadn't heard him sound that childish in years and he felt a bit guilty himself for making his boy cry, but learning was never easy. He picked his boy and hugged him consoling him.

"Shhh… It's ok now. Nothing bad happened. We are all better than ok now. We are Home. We will find a new house in Boston and a school for you, Dean made me promise, no more private tutoring for you… And open the floo network so that Ted can attend auror training and stay with us. It will be really nice. You'll really like it, you'll see." Harry said and a whole lot of opportunities unfolded before his eyes.

Cas rubbed his eyes clean. "Yes… I think I will." The boy answered.

"I'm sure you'll make a lot friends… But before that, you are grounded."

Harry smiled at Cas' dismay at hearing he was grounded but the dismay didn't reach his eyes. Both of them had no doubts it would work and that they would be happy. They were finally, all of their family, Home.

 

To be Continued…


	33. Long Overdue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be one Epilogue.

"Thought it would never end." Dean commented to Harry as they both entered the living room. It was the only room left for them. Dean had been sleeping on the couch for the last week since the boys arrived. Castiel, Johnny and Ted were sharing one of Bobby's guest rooms as Jane and Sam shared the other. Bobby kept to his room.

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked lightly.

"The day. Thought it would never end. Never had so many chick flick moments in one day." Dean complained tired as he threw himself at the couch.

"Sorry about that." Harry said with humor.

"Right, you should be, it's all your fault. I'm not even forty and I'm father to 2 kids, one of which is nineteen years old! But I can't complain if I get to sleep with you." Dean said winking and raised himself with a smile, bringing Harry close to him in the couch.

"And you think I'm that easy?" Harry asked mockingly.

"You are not easy, I've been trying to bed you for 5 years now." Dean joked as he kissed Harry.

"You never called." Harry said, a bit bitter.

"Would you have picked up?" Dean answered, he knew this conversation already. He had had it with his brother. Harry thought for a bit and shook his head in negative. At least, Harry was honest with himsef. "I missed you so much." Harry told him, looking him in the eyes and Dean felt that gaze read his soul and go straight to his groin.

"You have no idea." Dean kissed him again with more lust this time and Harry answered just as eager. It had been too long and they kissed as if they could drink from each others souls through their mouths, like they were dementors and needed that to survive. They breathed each other like air, and the smell of their skin was just like they remembered. It was familiar and intimate and the five long years they spent apart, the five long years in which Dean couldn't touch a girl without feeling guilty afterwards, the five long years in which Harry would touch himself thinking of Dean in his cold lonely bed, were gone, as every touch and glance and feeling fell into place. Like a puzzle that fit in perfection, a dance that has been rehearsed in their minds for years.

Harry waved his hand and the couch looked just like their bed in Boston, he waved his hand again and the door locked itself, the room sound-proofed. The clothes were gone with another wrist move and Harry's breath waited in hold as Dean's body amazed him once more, it was so much better than his memories.

Differently from their last time, they were taking it slow. It was passionate but not violent. It was reverent and not possessive. It was Harry's turn to show Dean how much he felt glad to have him. It was an apology in sex form.

As much as Dean tried to take the lead as he always did, Harry would not have it. He caressed his face and kissed his neck and his tongue traced each of his shoulders with kisses, he started drawing a project of Dean's body in his mind using his tongue and mouth as pencil. Dean relaxed against the bed as Harry traced his neck, jaw, his arms, putting his fingers entirely into his mouth and sucking, Dean couldn't help but groan. He mapped his chest, detailing his nipples, tracing the lines on his stomach, dipping into his navel, around his protuberant hipbones... He moaned deeply in the back of his throat. It took all of Dean's might to hold still when Harry finally put Dean's se into his mouth. Dean wasn't used to be on the receiver's end. He was a giver in every sense of the word. Though he would never turn down a blow job like that. Harry's mouth was heated and talented as Harry's tongue swirled around the head of Dean's cock, it had just a side of teeth that made it just more thrilling. Dean felt like falling in ecstasy but each time he got close, Harry would bring him back.

"I want you inside… I want you to come inside me." Said Harry, his voice husky with desire, his eyes dark in lust.

Dean brought Harry for one more kiss and inverted their positions lying over his lover. "I don't want to hurt you." Dean said and Harry understood.

The wizard brought him closer and whispered in his ear.

"I want to remember your dick in my ass all day tomorrow." Harry said and the dirty words got Dean's cock weeping.

Dean made Harry suck on his fingers like he did earlier and used all the saliva h could get to slide his fingers into Harry, slowly preparing him.

"You want me?" Dean asked, teasingly, scissoring his fingers in Harry.

"Yeah."

"Seriously?" Dean asked again hitting Harry's prostate with his fingers.

"Fuck, yeah."

"You sure?"

"Fuck me already!" Harry ordered, and Dean complied, he just couldn't resist to make his lover beg that way.

Dean entered Harry in one stroke. He didn't wait long and he was moving. Harry was moaning and it all was so good. Nothing ever felt that good. The slow move turned into a fast move and then into pounding and soon they both were seeing stars drenched in each other's sweat.

As they regained their breathing, Dean gathered Harry in his arms and kissed him once more in a sated daze. He looked into his man's green eyes.

"Love you." He dared say the words. It was hard but he had to say them.

"Me too, baby. Me too." Harry answered and kissed him again.

"And thanks." Dean said.

"For what?"

"For Coming Home."

 

The End 


	34. Epilogue

Epilogue

 

Harry was totally and completely heartbroken. He couldn't phantom how he was to get through the next 4 months.

"Harry, you've been polishing that same patch of counter for at least half an hour." Dean pointed out as he started to put down the chairs he had positioned over the tables to mop the floor in Mac's Bar.

"Dean… He is going to be there for 4 months. Alone." Harry argued.

"Harry, so did you. And you are always going on about how wonderful Hogwarts was apart from Voldie wanting your ass on a plate. And no one is out for his blood. Cas will be fine." Dean explained, too calm for Harry's tastes.

"How can you be so sure?" Harry asked, his instinct telling him Dean wasn't telling him everything.

"Well, I wouldn't let him leave, if I didn't know he could look out for himself, would I?" Dean answered with a smirk.

"You didn't." Harry begged, more to the heavens than to his lover.

"Harry, I know you don't want him to be a hunter, but the hell I would let him go to place people tried to off you don't know how many times without a basic notion on self-defense." Dean said categorically.

"I know pretty well your notion of self-defense." Harry said in a closed off face he couldn't hold for long. As it slipped, he asked: "Is he good?"

"Cas is a pretty decent shot better than Ted really and has a hell of a right hook, if that's is what you're asking." Dean smiled, wickedly.

"Ted is involved?" Harry questioned his eyes widening.

"Shouldn't be news. I wouldn't have any kid of mine not knowing how to shoot a gun or make an exorcism."

Harry sighed, now he didn't have an excuse to fret over the situation.

Dean came up behind him and hugged him.

"He is fine." Dean whispered in confort.

"I know, the question is: am I fine?" Harry answered. He had never spent such a long time away from Castiel.

"I'll take care of you." Dean said and kissed him.

______________________

"Potter, Castiel!" Uncle Nev had called when they got to the P's. Professor Longbottom now, Cas berated himself in his thoughts, he was Deputy Headmaster under Professor McGonagall, after all.

He walked to the stool in front of the four big tables of the Great Hall. The Sorting Hat was placed on his head. Cas jumped slightly as it started talking. His dad had warned him it talked but it was like a thought, inside his head.

"A Potter! Thought there would be more of you by now…" Said the Hat wondering. "Difficult, just like your father. Very difficult. Very powerful too… Hum… Focused. You know exactly what you want, and where you are going. And what you will have to do to accomplish it. Though very brave and noble, you have a calculating mind… It shall be: Slytherin!" It screamed out loud and the Hall went silent. As if the Hat had just announced that the Son of Harry Potter was a freaking Death Eater. Rosie, his best friend apart from Ted and Dean, Aunt Mione's daughter, raised an eyebrow at that and Castiel winked at his childhood friend.

He walked to the Slytherin table and everyone glared at him until they were sure Castiel wasn't going to sit anywhere near them. He made his way to the empty seats where there wasn't a single soul around. Rose would be just a few tables away, he reassured himself. Victoire, his cousin, too, though much older than him, she promised to watch out for him. Victoire was Griffindor's Head-Girl that year, like her dad, Bill, had been years before. She was also Ted's girlfriend, Castiel smirked at the thought. Trust Ted to get himself the hot blonde with Veela blood.

He was so thoughtful he didn't notice as a small platinum blond boy sat beside him.

"Don't worry about them. They are just being snobbish. It's almost a sport between pure-bloods." The boy smiled, his silver eyes seeming friendly. "I'm Scorpius Malfoy, by the way." He said and at Castiel's tilted head to the left he continued. "Oh, I know father had awful ideas for names. What comforts me is that I didn't end up Abaddon Malfoy as Gradfather had intended." He laughed and his laugh was contagious in a stuck up way. Cas had to smile too. Could a momma's boy like this guy be nice? Maybe.

"Castiel Potter." Cas said and shook Malfoy's hand.

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is one more story to this trilogy! And it's called Blood and Name. It is written, but I will try and post like this one, one or two chapters per week.
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed this!


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